


Laughter in the Dark

by Starshaker



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Changeling!Alicia, Changeling!Jackson, F/M, Fae!Lydia, M/M, Magical Bond, Minor Violence, Pain, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Torture, Writing on Skin, fae!Scott, fae!Stiles, mental distress, trickster spirits - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 17:43:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 56,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2660837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starshaker/pseuds/Starshaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is a fae. A trickster spirit with too much curiosity for his own good and a knack for getting into trouble. When he's just trying to help things don't go to plan and coincidences don't seem to end up for the better.<br/>Trapped, isolated and aching to get home, though it's better than what Gerard would have had planned for him initially, Stiles learns to deal with his new set of circumstances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Trickster's Meet and Greet

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone thinks I should add any more tags/warning don't hesitate to let me know, the same with spelling and grammar mistakes. I'm bound to have missed something.  
> Ill be updating this fic whenever I can. Encouragement may be necessary.

Stiles tripped his way gaily down the dark and narrow stone spiral staircase. There were corridors extending off down every few steps and the bells from the warning tower were sounding out and echoing down every hallway. There were shouts too, from guards and panicked servants as they took cover in rooms and alcoves save getting between the lord’s guards and their prey. Stiles keened his hearing at the sound of footsteps and heavy breathing approaching up towards him and ducked into a shallow alcove just as they turned the corner in front of him. The shadows wrapped around him as his request and they of course saw nothing. Stiles easily continued on his way as soon as they’d passed by, he smiled to himself. Their heavy boots infinitely louder than Stiles’ light steps; if they were going to catch him he’d be the one to have to make a mistake. 

Two flights further down Stiles stepped out he came upon a soldier stood in position stood just inside an alcove. He jumped the few steps down to him landing squarely facing him. Before the soldier had the impulse to reach out or strike Stiles saluted him with a grin and jumped down several more stairs and disappeared into the dark. He could hear the guard shouting in an attempt to raise the alarm to his comrades but Stiles was already too far away for it to be a threat to his mischief. In reality he could have passed that guard without them ever noticing him, but what was the fun in that?

He made his exit from the stairwell and suddenly found himself face to face with two more guards. Humorously, there was one tall guard and one shorter, wider guard. Their armour glinted in the dim moon light coming through the windows behind them and by the candle burning beside the doorway. Under their helmets Stiles could see a smirk showing on the taller man’s face. Stiles couldn’t resist smirking back.  
“Hello boys,” He said sweetly.  
“Guess you’ve run out of luck,” The taller one sneered. “Can’t wait to play with you,” He said stalking forwards slowly.  
“Y’know I’m sure we’d have fun,” Stiles countered as he stepped forwards himself closing the gap. A movement in the shadows just past them caught his eye and a small familiar face appeared from behind a statue. Stiles refocused on his attackers making sure to keep their attention on him, “But I’m afraid just haven’t got the time to stick around today,” He dived left as the shorter of the two grabbed for him and then as the taller lunged he jumped, higher than any human could and the guard threw himself forwards of his own accord, landing hard on the floor with a clatter of sword and chain mail. Stiles snapped his fingered and neither guard would be moving from the floor any time soon.  
“Yo Teddy, kid what’re you doing out here?” He said crossing over to where behind a great statue stood the indiscrete child shuffled from foot to foot nervously.  
“It’s not safe if you don’t know what you’re doing,” Stiles put a hand on his shoulder carefully.  
“I wanted to see what you do to them,” Teddy was looping a piece of stay cotton round his fingertips as he spoke.  
“It’s just a bit of fun. But they could hurt you if you’re not careful,”  
“But ‘tiles,” Teddy whined looking up pleadingly. The kid was curious but Stiles had been warned by his father about inspiring irresponsibility. From behind the guards groaned and Stiles could see the look on the boys face meant he wasn’t ready to come face to face with a human any time soon. Let alone one of these goons in armour.  
“Go on now, vanish,” He waved his hand in the boy’s direction and though Teddy was pouting and scowling up at Stiles, he faded into smoke and returned home. Stiles though still had things to do. His trickster habits were still buzzing inside for a thrill and he’d been itching for this target. 

He ducked and dived his way illusively past a dozen or so more guards before coming across his goal: The Marquis’ library. Inside held thousands of secrets only written in books hundred of years ago. Stiles had been around to see most of them then but had been foolish enough to let them slip out of his reach over the centuries. He dodged his way around the room being drawn to certain texts like they had a rare exotic aroma to them. He pulled out a thin cloth bag from his pocket and went about picking the ones he most desired. There were eight by the time he’d finished heavy in the bag which he threw over his shoulder. He was perusing shelves close to the door when he heard it creak on its hinges behind him. He stepped back into the shadows and whispered a quick concealing spell. 

A soldier stepped in and after doing only the briefest sweep of the room, missing him completely Stiles could see easily in the dim moonlight coming through the windows but the soldier was even carrying a torch or candle. The soldier didn’t appear concerned with continuing their search; instead they heavily leant back against one of the desks at the front of the room by the door. Stiles would have to wait to make his escape until they had moved a little further away. 

From where Stiles was standing he could see their laboured movements as they placed their sword and shield down on the table beside them. He could hear their heavy breathing that was more characteristic of painful controlled gasps than physical exertion. Stiles stepped forwards, light and careful on his feet, to gain a better view as the soldier unpeeled the leather cuffs around their arm and rolled back the covering. It revealed a nasty gash the length of their forearm. Stiles silently cursed. This shouldn’t have happened. He’d told his friends no injuries but apparently someone had been a little over enthused for the trip. 

The soldier in front of him pressed the wound with their hand and hissed at the pain. They kept their hand tightly over the cut and bent their head right back up to stare at the ceiling, presumably attempting to ignore the pain away.

From the several metres away Stiles began to bind the skin carefully so as not to be painful, but he’d need to be closer so as not to leave a scar. Slowly Stiles stepped from the shadows. The soldier didn’t notice until Stiles stepped past a beam of moonlight filtering through the window. The jumped and reached for their weapon but with a flick of his hand the sword was out of reach and harm’s way.  
“You shouldn’t have been hurt, let me help. I can heal it,” He said reaching out a hand palm up and open as a reassuring gesture. The soldier made no move to step closer and Stiles knew there were many false rumours in the human world about trickster spirits like him. It was enough to make him wonder who was perpetuating them.  
“Thanks but no thanks. I could lose my life,” A female soldier then, and one Stiles’ fae charms hadn’t settled immediately. He was almost intrigued enough to let her keep her harsh snapping words while he worked.  
“So distrustful,” Stiles waved his hand and the soldier dropped to the floor as if in slow motion. Stiles crossed quickly and brought up a hand to rest a hand on the back of her neck and ease her down to stop her from landing uncomfortably. He crouched over her and ran a thumb gentle over her wound. The soldier’s eyes glared up at him. “Have a little faith in fae kind,” He whispered. He placed his hand firmly over the now vanishing mark on her arm and it was soon returned to unblemished skin.  
“I’m Stiles, by the way. And I really mean it when I say that no one was supposed to get hurt here,” He waved his hand as if signing his name in the air above her body, ending the spell keeping her still and she was able to move again. Her first impulse it seemed was moving slightly further away from where he knelt beside her before crouching and standing, never taking her eyes off him.  
“I can’t spare you,” She warned him stepping backwards carefully until Stiles knew she would be able to reach for her weapon.  
“You can if you can’t catch me,” He countered throwing a hand out which sent her sword flying across the room into the dark and in a flash he’d grabbed the bag of texts. He foolishly thought he was out of harms way when she’d gone to retrieve her sword and Stiles slipped out of the door, immediately crashing into the back of another guard.  
“Cora are you-,” The guard’s words disappeared as he stared down into Stiles’ eyes  
“Oh, yeah, hi,” He grinned and waved childishly. The guard’s hand shot out grabbed him by the shoulder and Stiles squeaked in surprise as the door dug into his back sharply.  
“If you’ve hurt her you’ll never stop paying,” The guard growled and Stiles was sorely distracted by quelling the temptation to reach up and stroke his hand down this guy’s face to ease the tension there. It was more than aggression it was a fire and energy that was in this man’s very skin. Stiles cocked his head to one side.  
“Then lucky for you she’s actually better than when I first met her,” The guard shoved Stiles back into the door again and held his arm tight across Stiles’ neck. Stiles deadpanned and stared back at him. “You don’t think I could get out of this if I wanted to? I’m actually pretty benevolent as trickster spirits come and go,”  
“Why are you here?”  
“Reading material,” Stiles shrugged the shoulder with the bag hanging from it. The guy in front of him frowned confused. Distantly down the corridor he heard the laughs and squeals of his partners in crime and Stiles’ eyes flickered from the direction the sounds were coming from back to the guy’s face mere inches from his. He actually wanted to stay and play with this one. He seemed serious enough Stiles could have a bit of fun with him. He huffed out a chuckle under his breath at the circumstance of events before catching his foot around the guy’s leg and spinning him so that Stiles was now the one pinning him down. “Oh I’ve got to go, but it was nice meeting you,” He whispered in the guy’s ear.

He shot off to the end of the corridor where he glanced back at the guy staring hopelessly after him. The girl had just opened the door beside him and was talking to him, asking if he was okay. Stiles left them to it. He was sure they’d twist the story of their encounter with him to their own gain anyway.

Stiles shot down the corridors listening to the high pitched giggles and shouts of his family and tracking them through the hallways. He finally came across a balcony overlooking a grand hall. He leant over the edge of the railing until he almost overbalanced so he could see his group of friends corralled down beneath them. The guards there were looking bloodthirsty and vicious and Stiles concern grew from wondering if they’d get out of this adventure without more bloodshed.

A slam of a door behind him told him all he needed to know about how close the guards were to his own position. He took a few steps backwards to give himself a run up and then with a hand clutching his bag close to him he jumped, somersaulting off the balcony and down onto the floor below landing in the danger zone of gap between the lord’s guards and his friends. A hand grabbed his jacked and yanked him backward as a sword cut too close to his chest for comfort.  
“Idiot,” He heard Lydia mutter behind him. There was a fondness in her voice though so she can’t have had too bad a time here. He leant back into the hand still on his tunic as a show of thanks.

“Wow,” He said wobbling a bit from dizziness, “This has been fun guys but we’ve really got to dash,” and then with a few whispered words threw a handful of what appeared to be glitter full dust up into the air. He watched as some of their attackers froze or panicked, pushing back into their comrades behind to get away from it. The distraction had worked and Stiles and his friends slipped past the confusion and out of the nearest side door. 

They jumped and danced through the now more spaced out guards and down the steps of the entrance hall and outside. Stiles spotted his acquaintances from up in the library stood up on a ledge above the main courtyard. Stiles couldn’t resist one more goodbye and dodged his way out and around several blades and then jumping up high to land on the stone balcony railing in front of them. The girl looked suspicious of him but though her blade was raised she didn’t step forward to attack him, the guy was just staring however, no weapon no visible inclination to do him harm. Stiles paused in front of them he couldn’t help but laugh. It was his favourite part to see people who didn’t know how to take him. He winked at the guy and bowed low, and then fell backwards turning in the air and landing on his feet. He saw the two above him having thrown themselves to the railing to see his fate.  
Over the noise Stiles caught Lydia shouting for him and as if he was only remembering the steps to a dance rather than avoiding a skewering blade he skipped ducked and spun his way out of reach of attack and was back to Scott and Lydia’s side.

“Dude what are you playing at?” Scott scolded him as they ran out onto the courtyard followed by at least two dozen guards.  
“The illusions are your fun, the teasing them when I know they can’t catch me, that’s mine. What was with the violence man?”  
“Jackson got a little protective when someone snuck up on Lydia. I sent him home like with a snap but he still got in a few hits.” On his other side Lydia huffed, her strawberry blonde hair flying out wildly behind her.  
“He took one of their blades and used it against them. I knew they were there. Waving that thing round like he knew what he was doing. He caught one of them right across the arm as they were pulling someone else out of his way,” Lydia was one of only a few of them who could wield a weapon. The rest of them largely used tricks and illusions around humans but Lydia’s appearance made her an easier target in the eyes of humans. She was easily the deadliest of them all.  
“And that only made them more aggressive, we almost got hit ourselves,” Scott added as they skirted around the stables and knew they weren’t far off from the main gate now. If they could get there they could vanish from right where they’d entered. 

“Yeah I met one of them. Jeez, when he picks people to piss off,” Stiles said as they stepped in close to one another just in front of the gate. A hundred or so feet in front of them the guards were in pursuit. Stiles shut his eyes tight as the world around them shifted and they were miles away from the castle and back home.

When Stiles reopened his eyes his forest and their clearing had appeared around them once again the woven canopy overhead and the benches in a small circle around them told Stiles they’d actually gotten their loop right this time Leaving and arriving in the same place gave balance and less consequences; Stiles wasn’t new to such as rises in anxiety, mood swings, headaches etcetera but he it was a learned skill to get the travelling right every time that could save him a lot of discomfort in he long run. Unfortunately a lot of his travelling brought him up against people who didn’t want him in the areas he found himself in and getting back home from his travels sometimes took more than one try.  
His eyes immediately flickered up and saw his father approaching him with his arms crossed just in front of them and Jackson sat scowling on a bench just behind.  
“Yo dad,” He called out shouldering the books higher and stepping forwards to greet him. His dad didn’t look extremely pleased but there was thankfulness in his expression having seen Stiles arrive home none the less.  
“Did you get what you wanted from them?” He asked bringing an arm up to hug his son.  
“Yeah, totally; the books, the trouble. Just what I needed,” He dad looked down at him and raised an eyebrow.  
“Trouble?”  
It was then that Lydia crossed the room to where Jackson sat. The guy stared up at her, eyes wide and looking as though he were about to apologise if he could find his words; Lydia didn’t look to care. Her lips were pierced tight and she spat out a word under her breath in a language Stiles hadn’t leant enough of to appreciate, slapped him around the head, and left without another word, disappearing into the trees and heading home. Jackson bore it with a solemn look that followed her departure.

Stiles kind of liked it when Lydia brought Jackson up on being a jerk. He used to like it even more when he was all but completely in love with her. She was beautiful and terrifying and incredibly intelligent but Lydia had set him straight that his dream was vastly set in delusion. They were fast friends and a good team, but they were unlikely to ever become more than that, even in a fae’s lifetime. She and Jackson were likely to be bonded in the few decades or next century. Stiles would be glad to see Lydia happy, even if it was with a changeling.

“I’ll head home and start working on this right away,” Stiles cut in, hoping to leave Jackson to his dad’s reprimands and escape unscathed from interrogation but was stopped by his Dad’s hand.  
“And there were no… hiccups, on your little trip,” His dad suggested, a gentle asking of an explanation.  
“Well Jackson’s a douche but we knew that already,” Stiles wiggled his finger at Jackson who glared back as if the look itself would cause Stiles pain. “Got a little overenthusiastic with the threatening humans bit,” Jackson was a changeling child and it had never been as easy for him to quell his impulsive urges to always be and have the best. Stiles thought they were stupid human urges but every now and then his dad told him he exhibited some of his own. That was entirely different though, he’d protest, Fae are born wanting to protect what’s theirs.  
“Nothing else?” His dad asked clearly not entirely satisfied with the answer but it wasn’t a story Stiles could tell without admitting he’d been separated from the group which his father would disapprove of even more.  
“Nothing mentionable,” He shrugged.  
“Good, I was a little concerned when you sent him back earlier than the rest of you,” His father nodded and turned back to Jackson. Jackson would be reprimanded sure, but a little show of remorse and Lydia’s good word would see him out on missions again soon enough.

Stiles didn’t want to stick around in case Jackson did decide to turn him in for going off on his own and ducked into the forest to head home. Scott was by his side as soon as they left the clearing and was hissing out a reprimand.  
“You met one, Stiles you know we’re not supposed to engage let alone stop and chat.”  
“I didn’t chat with them,” He objected, “Well I chatted at them, and healed one of them. Restoring the balance,” He moved his hands as if imitating a scale until they were level.  
“You know your Dad’ll be mad,” Scott said knocking him with his elbow as they walked.  
“Then we won’t tell him will we Scotty,” He shot his friend a look which was returned with a sad sorry one “Will we,” He emphasised and Scott’s gaze dropped to the floor. Stiles knew he was already outed.  
“At what point…?”  
“I’m not planning to okay, but if he asks me I can’t lie Stiles, you know I can’t,” Scott was a terrible liar but omitting the truth and lying were entirely different things. Stiles had tried for years to get him to understand this.  
“Then don’t say anything. They didn’t catch me; I righted a wrong, its all good,”  
“If you say so,” Scott grumbled unconvinced.  
“Come on, I need you to help me convince Deaton to let me work on these in the glen,” He dragged Scott in the direction of Deaton’s home and glen. The best place Stiles had yet found to concentrate and work on his spells, a convergence of ley lines leant it’s self to mastering control for someone like Stiles. The background feel of the ley lines helped him concentrate like a white noise dulling his other sensory input while he worked.  
“Just don’t ask me to smell them again. I swear you make up how special things give off smells,” Scott said but moving willingly in the direction Stiles was pushing him.  
“Come on then man what was your favourite bit of our adventure today then?” Stiles asked bouncing on the ball of his foot and walking backwards so that his could face Scott as they both revelled in the adventure.  
“I don’t know. There was a girl,” Scott shrugged at the comment but Stiles could see how the dreaminess was catching in his eyes  
“Pretty girl?”  
“Yeah, she was pretty. She could have been a princess,” Scott was a sucker for the idea of beautiful princesses. The brave and beautiful princess stories had always been his favourite as a child.  
“Hey now we can’t go stealing the virtue of princesses just because people expect us to,”  
“I wouldn’t!” Scott objected, “I’m just saying she looked nice is all,”  
“Yeah man, you’ll find your princess one of these days,” Stiles said, patting his friend’s shoulder commiserating.


	2. Not All Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is troubled by all the things that are just too out of reach to understand. Thankfully between his dad and Scott, they can keep him a little more grounded when his mind is turning over impossible questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to know what you all think so far. Comments, critique, kudos,( even if all you do is point out my bad spelling and grammar. I go through these half a dozen times and I still miss glaring errors) Thanks for reading :) x

Stiles spent days going through those books. Pouring over every detail and revelling in the secrets he’d found hidden amongst their pages. He loved feeling all the information wash over him. He could learn how to manipulate the elements and help nature create something entirely new. 

Technically, he’d selected these books to research the warding problem the clan had been sporadically having issues with but after solving that in the first couple of days there was so much more to learn from these books than the single spell.

There were weather spells and growth enchantments, ways to change appearance and ways to intuitively translate any language. Stiles thought he might finally be able to rival Lydia in that arena. When he’d posed the possibility to her she’d commented that she only learnt new languages when she was bored, not as a way to ‘beat’ him. Stiles had pouted and huffed out that, “She was too beautiful to be so smart, and talented and,” and then he’d rattled off a dozen or so of her best qualities. She’d smiled given him a fond look in return. He’d stopped, leaned forwards, and whispered “Dance with me Lyds,” to which she’d smiled wide and replied  
“Fine, but only one,” And had proceeded to spin him off his feet until they were both grinning and laughing.

Stiles had skimmed over the page on translations before deciding to come back to it on a day he found a text he couldn’t translate. For now, these books were keeping him occupied.  
However, for the past two days he’d been stuck; on a spell to protect fae clans from any and all human harm. There was something that didn’t make sense though, even after going to Deaton, who could usually fill in the gaps for various texts. He’d used everything at his disposal in his fae clan and then proceeded to sink down into his seat and sulk. He was still there stewing over a way to fix his problem when his dad found him several hours later.  
“Hey, Everything alright?” The words shook Stiles from his day dream and he sighed.  
“This,” He said pointing at the page in front of him, “is something really important, like for everyone, and I can’t get it,”  
“Have you spoken to-,”  
“Yes,” Stiles snapped. His frustration with the work seeping into his voice but he always regretted snapping at his dad.  
“Hey,” His dad lightly cuffed his shoulder with the back of his hand.  
“Sorry,” with his apology his dad sighed and circled round to the seat on the other side of him and sat down. His dad pulled the book out of Stiles’ reach but didn’t close it.  
“Talk to me,”  
“It’s just the work. It’s important and it could help. If I can’t help what good am I,”  
“What’s made you think you’re suddenly not good enough?”  
“It’s nothing,” He muttered.  
“Okay, then tell me why you’re stuck with this then,” His dad waved a hand across the mass of papers and books in front of them both.

Stiles leant forward and explained each text, the pages he knew, and the pages that would fit; if he could just figure out the one bit that was entirely incoherent to him.  
“It’s like there’s a whole other piece just missing. Like the author thought nope, not going to explain this: The most difficult part, in the same book as everything else. I’m going to just assume everyone knows how to invert elements whilst keeping them stable,”  
“You think it could have been taken out of the book?” His dad suggested.  
“I don’t know, maybe. It’s an old book it looks like it’s had a lot of repairs. Either that or it could have been an insert or something. But I don’t know whether the marquis would have had it and hidden it somewhere else,”  
“I could ask around,” Stiles sat up and narrowed his eyes.  
“Ask who?”  
“I have friends, some contacts even Deaton doesn’t know. In this realm and the human one,”  
“You could?” Stiles’ eyes shot open and he sat up from his slouched position.  
“Yeah, of course kiddo,” He ruffled a hand through Stiles hair avoiding the boy’s attempts to waft him away  
“Thanks,” Stiles groaned begrudgingly as he tried to flatten down his hair to some semblance of order.  
“Now how about the other thing that’s been on your mind these past few days?” His dad leaned in shoulder to shoulder with him and Stiles pressed back gently feeling the warmth between them.  
“I’m fine Dad, really,” Sure he’d felt off. Some odd dreams that had him waking up and reeling from an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach, but it was nothing h didn’t think would pass. As far as Stiles knew Scott hadn’t blabbed about their mission, or Stiles’ extra encounters. He figured if his dad did know about his son taunting that guard he probably wouldn’t be acting so subtly.  
“Okay, well I’m here if you need anything. I’ll send some feelers out to find this missing piece for… inverting elements you say? ”He dad looked down at some of the papers on the table clearly confused by the majority of it.  
“Yeah, I’ll write it down for you,” Stiles grabbed a scrap of paper and jotted down the name of the spell, the steps preceding and following, the names of some of the ingredients, “and the author and…”  
“I think this is good to be going on with, don’t you?”  
“Yeah, yeah that’s okay, I guess,” Stiles shoved the piece of paper into his dad’s hands before he had the urge to write anything else.  
“You want to go grab some dinner? Melissa’s invited us round,”  
“Yeah, sure, I’ll just tidy, uh,” He stood quickly from the table pulling a dozen or so papers together and then glanced around the room; suddenly realising he’d spread out his papers a lot further than he’d initially realised.  
“Leave it son,”  
“I’ll tidy it, just,” He gestured to the clear extend of the spread.  
“I know you will; now the sooner we get there the sooner we can eat yes?” He dad said smiling with amusement and stepping over an array of notes haphazardly scattered across the floor.  
“I like the way you think,” His dad pulled him closer with an arm around his shoulders.  
“Love you kiddo,” He said as he lead the way out.  
“Yeah, love you too dad,”

Melissa was Scott’s mom; and if she invited you to dinner, you’d be a fool to hold other plans. Besides, Scott was his best friend, and with all the work he’d been immersed in Stiles had spent precious little time with him since they’d gotten back nearly a week ago.

Typically they hadn’t been the only ones invited. Stiles scanned the people already sat around the centre fire and noticed Alicia sat on her own drawing patterns in the dirt beside her. 

Alicia, a changeling like Jackson, worked under Melissa, learning the ways of the wood, healing and aiding the forest to give back. Stiles liked her, when she wasn’t setting his hair alight. She maintained it was an accident but didn’t exactly seem remorseful about it.

Stiles dropped down to sit cross legged next to her, as his dad circled the fire to sit by Melissa’s side.  
“Hey Spark-shine,” He said elbowing her gently in greeting. Changelings often had a spark in their blood. Something giving them a pulse of magical energy that at some point in their childhood they would walk from one world to another and end up stuck there. Alicia had turned up in thick winter furs and snow covered boots. She’d walked straight into the heart of their clan and demanded to be returned to her brother because he had lost her and she was supposed to be home before it went dark. Melissa had taken her under her wing and explained that it wasn’t quite as easy as that. She’d cried as most changelings do but slowly opened up upon realising she had a way with nature few other humans did. She and Stiles had bonded over disliking Jackson for being a jerk to them and Stiles would tell her about his adventures and happenings in the human world. She hadn’t been to see him since he’d gotten back and it was usually the first thing she mentioned upon seeing him again. She was scowling down at the ground.  
“Come on spark-shine smiling is good for your health,” He rubbed a hand up and down her arm as he spoke.  
“Don’t call me that,” She muttered.  
“What? Why not?” He asked pulling away and hugging his knees to his chest.  
“Lydia says I shouldn’t let people do things to me I don’t want them to. Like call me names that aren’t my own or use my stuff without asking,”  
“She’s a smart lady,” He said nodding when Alicia looked up at him, “I’m sorry for calling you that,”  
“You should be,” She said sticking tongue out at him and smiling.  
“So Alice, Alic, Ally…?”  
“No!” She shouted at him  
“You like the name Alicia better?” She nodded once, certain and decided.  
“It’s my name. It belongs to me,” She looking up at Stiles as if looking for approval, hints of uncertainty in the creases around her eyes. Stiles smiled and eased her worry  
“Fair enough, Promise not to set my hair one fire then,” He held a hand for her to shake.  
“Promise,” She held out her hand to his and shook his firmly. Stiles scooped it up in both of his and kissed it. She giggled and squealed as she pulled away.  
“‘Tiles, you only do that for Lydia,”  
“You’re a big girl now, making decisions for yourself. Big girls get kissed on their cheek or their hand,”  
“Miss Melissa says I’ve got a lot to learn before I grow up,”  
“Hey so have I, want to see what I’ve been learning?” He asked and she looked up and nodded vigorously “Alrighty then,” he said. He pulled a few blades of grass from where they sat and held them between his palms. He whispered a few key words into his hands and then tossed them into the fire. Stiles glanced to her to see her leaning forwards riveted in anticipation. It took a moment or two and then the flames closest to them crackled and grew. Tendrils reached out towards them and Alicia gasped and shuffled backwards when they curled towards her feet. Her eyes were glued to them until she believed them to have stopped reaching out towards her. She turned her face up to Stiles and smiled wide.  
“Is that all?” She asked clearly expecting to be far more impressed by Stiles’ tricks. Stiles smirked.  
“Nope,” He leant forwards and the moment his hand touched one of the tendrils it appeared to break from its source and trickle around his palm and in and out of his fingers.  
“Whoa cool!” Scott’s hand landed heavily on Stiles’ shoulder and broke his concentration. He yelped as the flame burn out hot against his skin.  
“Not cool man,” Stiles said shoving Scott as he was sitting down on his other side. He held his hand up to Alicia. “Ow.”  
“I can fix that,”  
“Thank you,” He said watching as she took his hand and examined the raw pink skin raised up in a curling line around his thumb, palm and back of his hand.  
“It’s your own fault,” Scott said from behind him “Haven’t you ever been told not to play with fire,” Stiles turned round to stick his tongue out before turning back to Alicia.  
“Can it be saved?” He asked when he saw her frowning.  
“Yeah, just...”  
“What? Am I going to lose my thumb? Will I never be able to give anyone a thumbs up again?” He could feel Scott rolling his eyes behind him in amusement.  
“I’ve never actually practiced on anyone before,” She said quietly and then when Stiles didn’t respond “I’ve healed animals though,” She said in an attempt to sound convincing and competent. Stiles didn’t see the harm in letting her try. He already had the odd scar that even fae magic wouldn’t heal.  
“Go ahead,” Stiles encouraged her. She looked up nervously and caught his eye. “I trust you,”  
She took a breath and then rubbed her thumb gently in circled around the burn following its path around Stiles’ hand and enunciating the spell precisely. Stiles felt the pain dissipate until there was nothing to be felt but her small hands cupping his.  
“Did it work?” Scott asked leaning in close over Stiles’ shoulder to see for himself.  
“Yeah,” Stiles told him smiling down at Alicia.  
“I didn’t set you on fire!” She squealed with glee, moments before bursting out laughing; Stiles couldn’t help but laugh too. Between the stress and amazement of learning a new spell he often felt a giddy happiness erupting inside himself when he learnt something new.  
“You have no idea how grateful I am for that,” He told her. She stood quickly and threw her arms around his neck.  
“I’m going to go tell Melissa,” She said bouncing on her feet and rushing off to where Melissa sat.  
“Tell her it was all your idea!” Stiles called after her but he doubted the girl heard him.  
“Mum knows your ideas are the ones that go wrong,” Scott said leaning in close to him. Physical contact was important to them all; the solid warmth echoing the feelings of family that pulsed in their minds. “Well that’s a lie, has she never seen any of your plans in action?”  
“They’re not all bad,” Scott even looked a little offended at the statement  
“You tied that guy up in his own bathtub instead of just putting him to sleep or something,”  
“I panicked okay! Can you stop bringing it up. I can’t think fast like you can,” Scott’s first time out on his own in the human world was terrifying for him. He ended up so lost Stiles had had to find him and bring him home  
“Sure man, it’s all a learning curve right?”  
“Are you going to go back there again?” He asked around a mouthful of food.  
“Huh, why?” Stiles asked, his brow furrowed.  
“Deaton said you were struggling with something,” He said after swallowing a far greater amount than looked comfortable.  
“Doesn’t meant the answers back in that place,”  
“You could see that guy again,” Scott teased and Stiles shot a hand out to shove him.  
“Oh my god, tell everyone why don’t you,”  
“You get obsessive when you want to distract yourself from something. I haven’t seen you in days so you’ve been obsessing over this spell book or whatever. Because something else happened that you don’t want to think about,” Scott’s logic wasn’t entirely correct but Stiles hated how close it did come to how he felt  
“Fine fine, jeez. You live with someone for a few millennia you don’t expect them to know all your tells…” He grumbled and sighed.  
“So,” Scott prompted looking expected like an animal waiting expectantly for a command. Stiles waited a moment; Melissa was handing out bowls of soup to everyone with the help of some of the other kids. He thanked her and then once everyone had returned to their seats he spoke in a hushed whisper.  
“I dreamt about him, the guard I spoke to. His eyes staring at me and then I blinked and I was on my own in just darkness. But it was like I could feel him there. The energy I saw in his eyes, I could feel it,” Scott looked dubious and Stiles looked back down at his food suddenly not as hungry as he had been.  
“Weird,”  
“Wow, concise and effective, thanks,” Stiles flicked a bit of food at him and it missed by too far for Scott to notice.  
“So are you going back?”  
“Scott!”  
“I’d go with you! I could find that girl again,”  
“The princess?”  
“Yeah,” Scott would be the lovesick fool in all the fairytales. There was no question about it.  
“Sorry buddy but I don’t think we’d be welcomed back there,” Stiles said scooping up another spoonful and letting it fall back into the bowl with a splatter.  
“Hasn’t stopped you before,”  
“Yeah but if I do need to back for anything to do with these spells I’m working on I don’t want them remembering my face and habits,” Stiles countered, the excuse coming easily to him after years of his dad telling him just why he couldn’t make regular trips to and from the human’s world.  
“Yeah, like you always dodge right,”  
“I do not!”  
“You do, and your balance is crap after you’ve just jumped anything higher than six feet,”  
“Okay true, but it throws me off man. No ones caught me out before,” Scott raised an eyebrow at him.  
“Okay no ones caught me out too badly because of it,”  
“Me and Danny were going to practice some manoeuvres and defences tomorrow, Jackson said he might be there, maybe Lydia. We didn’t know when you’d come out of hiding with all those books,” Stiles glanced down and realised Scott had already finished him meal, he pushed his bowl across to him. Scott didn’t argue just swapped the bowl for his own and continued eating Stiles’ food.  
“I’ll be there. I’m so stuck with those books you wouldn’t believe,” Stiles groaned, leaning back on his hands and looking up at the stars above them.  
“You’re doing all this voluntarily. It’s not like you’ve got anyone on your back to figure it out like I have with Deaton. I totally froze up the other day when I was supposed to be taking pain while he worked on a patient. It was like I just couldn’t remember how,”  
“This is why you need me around isn’t it. You missed me so much you can’t do your job probably,” He knocked his knee against Scott’s and Scott hummed and then after swallowing his mouthful of food appeared to suddenly realise what Stiles had said.  
“Shut up,” He snapped.  
“Its okay man I understand how you feel,” He placed a hand over his heart and attempted to look sincere. Scott didn’t look impressed, “I’ll be there tomorrow. Kick some ass, and show you all how it’s done,” He threw a few punches at an invisible attacker in front of him and the Scott punched him in the arm hard.  
“I don’t know how you survive on your own,”  
“I have my wits and wiles,”  
“You have your stupidity,” Lydia cut in as she walked past behind them.  
“I’m as smart as you are,” He objected, leaning back to look up at her. She smiled pityingly.  
“Unlikely, but keep dreaming,” Stiles shook his head and stared after her.  
“Why does she keep going back to that douche Jackson? He just acts like a jerk,” Scott huffed. “You treat her like a queen and she barely remembers you’re there when he’s in the room.  
“She loves him,” Stiles said half smiling and tilting his head to the side in response, “Can’t argue with love Scotty,” 

 

Stiles knew he’d only drive himself mad by trying to understand the spell books further right now. What better distraction than spending a few days with Lydia and Scott anyway. But this training was not his greatest accomplishment.  
He could duck and dive out of the way of swords and spells but actually fighting back he just couldn’t get a hit in. which meant until his attacker tired, or Stiles got sloppy, the dance could go on for hours.  
“You scared Stiles? That why you’re not fighting back?” Danny taunted. He was stepping forwards and Stiles had managed to back himself into the fork of a tree and had few options for where to go.  
“I’m using your own weaknesses against you,”  
“Do tell,”  
“It wouldn’t teach you anything if you didn’t figure it out for yourself,”  
“You’re stalling is what you’re doing,”  
“Well you might see it that way but…” Stiles jumped up to one of the lower branches that had been entrapping him. “I always have an escape route,” He barely finished his remark when he felt the branch beneath him shudder and let out an ominous crack. Stiles fell the several feet to the floor pieces of the branch doing anything but cushioning his landing.  
“Oh mother of nature that hurt,” Stiles groaned rolling from side to side to avoid being stabbed by the sharp branches. Danny sauntered into view above him as he sat up.  
“You give up?” Stiles could hear Jackson’s jeers and Scott laughing off where they were stood.  
“I never give up,” He shouted loud enough that they would hear and grabbing a branch that had fallen with him rolled over and jumped to his feet. Jabbing and parrying with Danny who desperately tried to block the shots but seemed shocked by Stiles’ near instant recovery. Stiles hit him across the knee cap and Danny crumpled with the shot.  
“Giving up already, Danny boy?” Stiles said crouching down a few feet away.  
“You can’t honestly tell me you’re not in pain right now,” Danny said, raising his head and breathing heavily from exhaustion.  
“I don’t know how I’m standing up,” Stiles admitted and immediately flopped backwards into the leaves that littered the ground.  
“Gotta say that was impressive though,” Stiles preened at the compliment and a sharp pain twinged in his neck and he groaned.  
“Don’t expect a replay in the next few minutes. I’m just gonna lay here and uh contemplate life,”  
“Right,” From the corner of Stiles’ eye he could see Danny in a similar flat out position to himself. Training could be fun, but this hand to hand was what Stiles sucked at most of the time. He shut his eyes and listened to Lydia, Scott and Jackson taunt each other as they fought. In his mind he could feel every blow that met or missed the spikes of his friend’s determination and anxiety. This was what it meant to live.

 

“What happened to you?” His Dad asked when he strolled in later that afternoon.  
“Practice. And a tree,” Stiles said, bending over the basin and splashing water across his face. It came away brown from the dirt on his skin.  
“Did you go through it?” His dad picked out several small leaves and twigs from his mess of hair and flicked them out of the window.  
“Pretty much,”  
“I got a reply from a contact. He knew exactly what it was you were looking for as soon as I mentioned it,” Stiles’ head shot up at the news and he absent mindedly patted his damp hands down his shirt dirtying them all over again.  
“Does he know how to work it?” He asked excitedly.  
“No, but the Marquis did have it. Hid it in case people like us ever found out he had it,” His dad paused looking at Stiles carefully, “Stiles your little trip has apparently caused an uproar since the guy found out what was taken,”  
“It’s a gift, really,”  
“He’s planning to have it shipped to another secure location within a few days. What you’ve taken has gotten the humans angry and scared Stiles this isn’t going to be easy.”  
“Hey we can handle ourselves. Typical grab and go. All we need is a distraction and a thief. We have plenty of distraction material,”  
“Take seven. You can head out tomorrow morning. Rest up so you can get home in one piece, yes?”  
“Pfft, one piece is easy. It’s coming home in multiple pieces that you should hope for. That takes skill,” His dad remained unimpressed, “I’m joking. Don’t worry. I always do come home though,”  
“Get some sleep kid. You’ll need it. I’ve got to head out to Melissa’s,”  
“Tell Scott the news,”  
“I will do,”  
“Hey can I take some of the kids?”  
“Stiles,” His dad said, an air of caution in his voice.  
“If they can travel and they can get out of there if anything goes wrong. It’ll be good for some of them,” Stiles reasoned in arguement  
“I’ll let you know. My contact said there was a lot of talk about how much value the Marquis was putting on this piece,”  
“Then most of it’s probably just exaggeration he’s playing up how important his stuff is since fae deigned to steal from him.” Humans did that all the time. Exaggerate and lie. It was how everything got so messed up and wars happened; trying to get things off each other that neither ever owned in the first place.  
“You’re probably right,” His dad said, nodding slowly and then heading out. Stiles took his seat by the fire and weighed up his options.


	3. The Docks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles, Scott Lydia, Alicia, Teddy, Jesse and Grace are the A team on the mission to get the extra piece of text Stiles needs to figure out the protection spell for his Fae clan. But of course they run into trouble, partly due to the nature of humans and of the Fae, and partly due to Stiles running his mouth at inopportune moments.

Stiles was up early the next day and by the time his dad was awake he was hunched over several papers with plans scrawled across them.  
“You figure out who you’re taking with you?”  
“Yep,” He held out a sheet of paper with one hand and continued scribbling with the other. He dad took it and rubbed his eyes before reading down the names.  
“Stiles there are four kids on this list, are you sure-,”  
“All of them have asked me about travelling. All have mastered the basics and at least one of them is travelling without supervision because I keep finding him when I go places and having to send them home,”  
“Wait, who?” His dad’s head snapped up the comment having pulled the last of sleep from him.  
“I promised I wouldn’t tell,” Stiles said, giving his dad a pitiful look in hope of being let off without explanation.  
“Stiles this is important,” His dad pressed.  
“I figured if I give them a real taste of what it’s like it’ll curb the habit. Convince them to work towards getting included on one of the scouting parties instead,” His dad didn’t look impressed. “I’ll tell you as soon as we get back how’s that?”  
“And there’s no way you won’t tell me who it is before you go?”  
“We’ll look after them you know we will. Scott and Lydia would die before letting any harm come to any of these kids,”  
“So would you kid,” His dad caught his eye and Stiles felt himself shrink under the scrutiny. He busied himself shuffling the papers on the table into some sort of order and tidiness  
“That’s just it though,”  
“That’s what I’m worried about,”  
“They’ll be safe I promise.” He said looking up at his dad again “And kids always make better distractions anyway,” He pulled out another sheet of paper with his plan hastily scrawled across it. “See I’ve got it all planned out.” His dad took it from him and squinted down deciphering the handwriting. “I found your notes from your friend and worked out how best to get in and out in various scenarios,” His dad sighed and passed him back the sheets.

“Go round up your group then, I’ll meet you out in the clearing in an hour to see you off, okay,”  
“Got it,” Stiles nodded and sprang up from the chair and was out of the door before his dad had gotten his bearing enough to see him disappear out of the door. He sank into the chair Stiles had just vacated and slid a hand down over his face. He leant forwards and shuffled the papers Stiles had left to see the extent of his work.  
“There’s no holding our kid back is there,” He whispered to the empty room. A light breeze blew through the open door, just enough to flutter the papers across the table. He smiled to himself and then stood to make some breakfast and tea.

Their goal lay in the La Balle D'argent, an impressive ship Stiles could admit as he stared at its gilded hull across the docks from where they’d landed. They’d landed between two warehouse sheds facing the bay, in between crates and barrels and where the overwhelming aroma of fish caught in their mouths. He glanced around to see if they’d been spotted, as were Scott and Lydia while the younger ones crouched out of sight to catch their breath.  
“We have our heading me hearties,” He stepped up, one foot on a crate and his hand across his brow looking out towards the ship.  
“That had better be your one and only pirate quip,” Lydia hadn’t appreciated the late notice of him barging into her bedroom to request she accompany him. Jackson had appreciated it even less since he wasn’t invited.  
“Quick Scotty, shield my eyes and ears. ‘'Tis a mermaid of striking beauty delivered here to escort me to the dark depths of the ocean,” He dramatically threw himself backwards into Scott’s arms, a hand on his forehead as if fainting. Scott laughed and threw him back to his feet. Stiles twisted to wink at the younger ones who were giggling at the stunt.  
“I thought these four were the ones going to be acting foolish today,” Lydia waved a hand in the direction of Jesse and Grace.  
“Never underestimate the fool,” He said cheekily elbowing her as he strolled past leading the way. He took Alicia’s hand as he passed.“Let’s go cause some mayhem huh,”  
“You did not bring me along to be responsible did you?”  
“It hurts that you’d think that. You’re here to teach ‘em how it’s done,” He spread his arms wide as if encompassing the whole bay. “Let loose Lyds,” 

Stiles signalled Scott to take Grace and circle the harbour and swing left; he and Alicia would take right while Lydia and the boys took care of assessing their direct route and creating enough of a distraction by the time the two pairs had circled back to them. 

Jesse and Teddy were somersaulting off barrels in a trails of sparks and the humans all around were either gasping at the display or crossing themselves at the sight of demons in their midst. Stiles spotted Lydia sidling up to a sailor who probably hadn’t even noticed the kid’s acrobatics by the way he was staring wide eyed at the red head. She was sliding a finger down a sailor’s front as he was obviously enthralled by her. Stiles watched as she reached up standing on her very toes to whisper something in his ear with a sweet smile. His thoughts were broken when a hand landed on his arm. Scott raised his eyebrows knowingly.  
“Shut up.” Stiles shoved him lightly, “What’s it look like round here to you?”  
“Remarkably few guards for a busy port. What did you see?”  
“A whole lot of crew around every route we might need to use: Trading, loading or recovering from their last night’s victory,”  
“Victory? Who did they beat?” Scott’s mind had a beautiful innocence to it that Stiles’ had long lost.  
“I’m not going to damage your delicate naïve mind with the details. I am too much your friend to enact such a heinous crime,” Stiles said, hand over his heart. Scott scowled.  
“Okay, okay. I didn’t want the details anyway, jeez; you couldn’t have just said lots of people about,”  
“Then I guess you’d need something to scatter them right?” Stiles jumped as Lydia appeared from just behind them. He glanced at Scott who was equally surprised at her arrival and mouthed to him ‘did you see her move?” Scott shook his head and Lydia pushed past both of them to stand in the middle staring across at the kids still performing their tricks.  
“You have a plan?” Stiles asked hopefully.  
“That man there just told me every sailor’s worst nightmare,” She pointed a long delicate finger to the guy Stiles had see her with. He was now staring dopily into space, mouth hanging open and laxly crumpled against a wooden pole.  
“You didn’t catch anything did you?” Stiles asked dubiously and she flicked her hair as he turned a condescending look on him.  
“Selkies, kelpies and the kraken,” She rolled her eyes as if bored by the banality of the sailor’s fears, “Essentially something that could drag them under and swallow them whole,”  
“Ooh I haven’t conjured any apparitions up in ages,” Scott said bouncing from his heels to toe and back again.  
“Hey, remember when we tried to scare that old woman with the giant snake, and she welcomed it into the house cause she couldn’t actually see what it was without her glasses!”  
“Well that just proves you won’t be doing anything here and now. You’re imagery is pathetically unconvincing,” She waved a hand in their general direction.  
“An overactive imagination is not a fault,” Stiles objected stubbornly  
“You’ve got a book to find. I’ll keep their eyes on me,”  
“I guess we’d better go. Grab a charge and watch my back,”  
“Got it,”  
Stiles slipped through the crowd and pulled Alicia out of the fray.

The ship was dark and damp with the faint odour of urine; everything Stiles’ very being cringed at. Alicia’s expression looked pinched as if she were holding her breath.  
“Sooner we find this thing the sooner we’re out of her okay,” Stiles dropped down ladder swiftly checking the coast was clear before Alicia followed him. Only once did he spot someone and he sent them to sleep on the spot; they fell softly into the side of the ship. Alicia jumped down behind him and barely glanced over to him before they then made their way to the hold.

From up above they could hear Scott and Jesse’s tricks sending the sailors shouting and running for cover. As they’d climbed aboard Stiles had seen Jesse whisper something to Scott who had nodded vigorously at the suggestion. The two were working towards becoming a brilliant team.

The moment he stepped into a small enclosed room off the main hold Stiles could feel the buzz of the centuries old text somewhere close. There were three crates spaced out in front of him but only one fixed down solidly; clearly the one which contained their prize.  
“Okay so it’s definitely in here. Can you keep a look out?” he asked cocking an eyebrow as if playfully daring her.  
“What if someone comes?” she asked quietly, not quite the confidence Stiles was expecting from her but it was her first actually mission. He settled a hand on her shoulder and bend down slightly.  
“If you can distract them do that, if not try to knock them out. No hurts okay,”  
“Okay,” she nodded and took up century duty just outside the doorway.

Stiles hurriedly wrenched the lid of the crate from where it had been nailed down and threw it up and over the back with little more than a flick of his hand. Mounds of straw expanded out of the crate which Stiles pushed it out of his way as he dug down to the bottom of the box. The thin blades of straw cut into his skin like whisper thin knives and healed just as quickly. Someone hadn’t wanted anyone prying too far into this crate’s contents. Finally, when Stiles was near dangling bend in half across the edge of box his fingertip caught on the hard corner of the book’s corner. He’d just brought it up to the top of the crate through the padding when Stiles heard a thump against the other side of the wooden panelling behind him, a gasp and then a rush of footsteps across the floor. Stiles threw himself towards the door and his eyes immediately fell on Alicia shrinking into the opposite wall between the beams. Between Stiles and her though was a guy three or four times Stiles’ size, torn dirty shirt and the stink of drink rolling off him. He was stalking forwards towards Alicia and Stiles was running through his options when Alicia screamed, and the great hulk of a man who was coming at her collapsed on the spot clutching his ears. Alicia gasped and the guy went limp, his arms falling to his sides.  
“Stiles I don’t like it!” She said cowering and heaving her breaths as if holding back a sob. Stiles crossed quickly and knelt by the sailors’ shoulders and checked his neck for a pulse.  
“Hey it’s okay. He’s just knocked out,” Stiles said holding out a hand to her. She shook her head fast and refused to step forwards.  
“He was going to kill you he had a knife and I didn’t see him until he hit me. I, I’m scared. Stiles I want to go home!” He stood and stepped over the body to her, crouching just in front of her and ducking his head to catch her eye.  
“Yeah okay kiddo. Are you okay travelling on your own?” She sniffled and wiped her eyes and the nodded.  
“Yeah.” She said quietly, “It’ll hurt though, won’t it? Cause I’m not where we arrived,” Stiles nodded slowly.  
“Just a headache or a queasy tummy. You go to Melissa when you get back. She’ll look after you,”  
“The others will call me a wuss,” She sniffed again.  
“And I’ll tell them all how brave you were. That you saved me,”  
“I saved you?”  
“Uh huh,” Stiles nodded slowly and sincerely. She hid her face in her hands and Stiles gently reached up to take on of them in his own, “You still want to go home?” He asked  
“Yeah,” She wiped her nose on her sleeve and looked up at him for just a second before throwing her arms around him tightly.  
“Okay. Be safe little one,” She loosened her arms and he watched as she took a deep breath and shut her eyes tight. In seconds he was staring at nothing but the corner of a ship’s hold. He cocked his head to hear if anyone else was coming and then when there was nothing but the distant sounds of people he returned to the crates he’d been searching to replace the lid and kick the escaped straw from sight.

“Where’s Alicia?” Scott asked when he reappeared on deck; a deck which was covered in shimmering glitter from Scott’s endeavours into chaos.  
“Took out a bad guy. She was a little shaken up, so went home,” Stiles grimaced and shrugged to Lydia who nodded in understanding  
“Oh cool. Scott can I take out a bad guy. I won’t hurt them honest!” Jesse asked hopefully bouncing from foot to foot in excitement.  
“We’re not here to make a scene,” Lydia told him and his face fell as he muttered about girls getting all the cool adventures.  
“I thought you were staying down on land?”  
“It’s a little late for that,” Lydia shrugged  
“They’re clearing the docks. The humans have pointed us out and the harbour guard are moving in,” Grace shouted as she suddenly appearing on top of a barrel beside them.  
“I think you’ve got some water in your ears kid,” Stiles said rubbing his own ear ache away.  
“What?” She yelled but Stiles just laughed. Scott on the other hand covered Grace’s ears with his hands clearing the blockage. Graces’ eyes widened as she realised the difference it made.  
“Cool, Thanks!”  
“S’ok Gracie,”  
“So back to the guard we’ve got closing in on out position,” She then dropped her voice to a hushed whisper, “including the possible kidnap, torture and –,”  
“I’m aware, thank you,” He glanced back around at the kids who were excitedly swapping stories of their best tricks so far.

“Teddy can you get a good view of where everyone’s positions from up there?” Stiles asked, pointing up by the figurehead at the head of the boat facing the docks. As he finished the request the boy was already jumping up into position, “Don’t let them see you,” He called and the Teddy ducked low under the railing and peered out.  
“The humans are all leaving, an then some others in uniforms are all in big groups shouting and standing in lines around where we came in and they’re got knives and guns. I’ve learnt about them from-, ooh and there’s one pouring something onto the ground. Looks like of like black sand,”

“Do you have a plan for this?” Lydia snapped at him.  
“Yes, but I thought I could use the plan where we all grow wings and fly out of this mess,”  
“About as successful as if you suggested we swim off out to sea,”  
“I can’t swim,” Grace admitted and from Jesse’s sombre expression it was unlikely he’d be a strong swimmer either.  
“Neither can Scotty,” Stiles added offhandedly and he glanced around looking for their escape options.  
“Not everyone needs to know that Stiles!” Scott whined and the kids giggled behind him.  
“Well. Are we just going to walk up there and say sorry for causing a spectacle and they’ll let us walk away?” Lydia snapped against, her hair spinning wildly as she turned to gesture in their direction.  
“No,”  
“Hey, don’t jump down each others throats. We’ve gotten out of stickier tricks than this,” Scott said jumping in between them and Stiles and Lydia scowled at each other.  
“When?” She pushed Scott’s arm from around her and he shrunk back, “Because these lot know something about us at least. They’re humans Stiles you can’t reason with them,”  
“Lydia can you let me think? Just for a minute.” he snapped back at her and stepped past her as she huffed. She was stressed, Stiles could feel his own stress building but there were five other people he needed to get out of this mess he’d landed them in.

Stiles leaned over the side of the boat and glanced up and down the dock, checking off the facts in his head. The guards were gathering around the warehouses they ducked past when they’d first arrived, and the only way off the dock they’d found themselves on, was too loop round out onto the adjacent dock; by climbing across the boats to the adjoining dock in order to head back down the east side. He took a deep breath and turned to face Lydia who had evidently reeled in her temper as she awaited his instruction. He stepped back over to her and held her hand just briefly.  
“First things first we can’t stay on this boat,” he stated turning from Lydia to the rest of the group. “Everyone down,” and with that Stiles leapt backwards over the side of the boat and down onto the gangway. The rest followed with lessened dramatics and then he pointed up the dock to a further boat from shore.

“Okay, exit plan is up and over the boats guys,” Stiles said reaching the gangplank of the boat floating closest. He crossed first glancing round in search of any crew and thankfully found none in sight. He then leaned back around the corner and motioned them all to head on up after him. He waved Lydia forwards and he stopped to glance behind them. The guards were marching down towards them, or at least the boat they had been on. 

“Stiles, how come they have so many weapons?” Jesse asked from behind him. He turned around to see Jesse studying an array of guns, daggers, and heavy metal cannon balls stacked and waiting to be move to the hold. He crossed to where Jesse was and grabbed him by the elbow pushing him in the direction the others had headed.  
“Sorry kid, no time for toys right now,”  
“I was just looking,” Jesse protested, pulling out of Stiles’ hold.  
“I’ll bring you sightseeing some time when we’re not being pursued by humans wielding those weapons,”  
“You promise,”  
“Hell yeah, now follow Lydia, I need to watch our backs,” Jesse nodded and the cast a longing glance back towards the stacks of cannon balls and knives as Stiles busied himself setting a low tripwire across the gangway, “Can I take one now?”  
“No, no go!” He said pushing Jesse off in front of him. Scott and Teddy were waiting for him on the next boat across and Lydia had jumped onto the next with Grace. She waited for only a moment to see them land safely before disappearing down onto the adjoining dock.

 

Stiles had just jumped down from the final boat onto the dock when Lydia yanked him back towards the shadows of the boat.  
“They’re waiting for us down there. They don’t have weapons readied so they know enough that we won’t attack. That we won’t fight. They’re prepared Stiles. They want to catch us for good this time,”  
“Then we play into their little plan and show them just how tricky we can be,”  
She turned him by the shoulder and reached a hand up to cup his cheek and looked him straight in the eye. He could see the concern, as well as her apology in her eyes.  
“Today’s a day for laughter and joy,” Lydia sang softly, the start of a song from when they were children. The ending to a fae tale Stiles’ mother had taught them all an age ago.  
“Not to be some human’s toy,” Stiles finished. He turned to the rest of the group and her hand dropped away. Grace looked most nervous of them all so he stepped over and kiss her cheek. She giggled at the touch and Stiles caught Scott’s eye over her head. He was to stick by her through all of this, and keep her safe. 

“Will you do me the honour my dear Lydia?” He asked, bowing slightly and holding out his hand. If anyone could inspire them all in this daring confrontation it was her.  
“Happily,” She took his outstretched hand in hers and launched into a run so fast it near dragged him off his feet. The others followed close on their heel and Lydia slowed once they’d all begun moving down the pier. The skipped and jumped over the various ropes and barrels strewn about the walkway. They laughed and Lydia sang out a chorus in their native tongue. There remained the churning in the base of Stiles’ gut that told him this could all go horribly wrong but as he saw out of the corner of his eye Scott trip and cartwheel before almost falling into the water surrounding them his laughter bubbled up and they were making memories that would likely turn into tales when they returned home.

He paused to allow Grace to catch up who had stooped to pick up a shell from the ground. Stiles used the moment and glanced towards the predators standing in formulated lines, so blatant in their proposed actions. Stiles knew his and his friends actions were mockery to them and a thrilling churning feeling in his stomach urged him on. He bent down and scooped Grace up in his arms and spun her around. She giggled more and together they ran hand in hand to catch up with Lydia, Scott and the others.

Stiles and Lydia were once again in the lead of their trope as they blazed past the first row of four bemused guards. Stiles glanced up at each of them and when a young man with curly blonde hair caught his eye Stiles winked. The poor man looked as if he’d seen a ghost and all the blood had drained from his face in shock. Stiles wondered what they’d been warned to expect.

The group moved between the guards carefully and precisely. That was until Stiles saw exactly what these human predators had been waiting for. A faint circle of dark powder and then another beside it and another as if paving their escape route; a trap waiting to capture them just as they’d passed what they had been assuming was the danger. He yelled for Scott.  
“Make the jump!” Scott didn’t hesitate, scooping up Grace in his arms as Lydia did the same for Teddy and in an instant the four of them were gone. The rest were vanishing as fast as the humans could blink and what chaos it was causing for them too. Stiles stood and drank it in. then he suddenly felt a pulse of emptiness. A hollowness that felt so deeply sickening he gasped. There was a scream from up ahead past the guards and in the circles Stiles had hoped everyone would avoid.  
He shot forwards stopping just outside the ring.  
“Jesse its okay, hold on its okay,” He rounded on the humans, the predators with their hungry gazes, “Let him go! He’s just a kid, let him go!”  
“What’d we get in return?” A voice questioned from the row of guards behind him.  
“Me.” Stiles shouted rounded again to face them. I’m the one who was stealing from you. I’m the one you need if you want any sort of information. You let him out and you get me,”  
“Why should we trust you?”  
“Because I give you my word,” He snarled.  
“Fae are tricksters we might as well keep the boy and let you give yourself up, rather than take your word,”  
Cruel humans and fools the lot of them Stiles thought. He needed to get Jesse out before the painful cries caused one of the guards to react violently. He didn’t want to hurt anyone after such a run. He had the options he’d studied in all those books he’d stolen. Final choices and sacrifices we always interesting in the abstract but now Stiles had to use one. 

“Okay then,” His raised his chin high and calmed his outburst, “I ask you all stand back a moment,” He said flashing half a smile and then waving his hand in a round, freezing them all in their place. The second he was sure they weren’t coming at him he dropped to the floor summoning all the energy he could from the ground.  
“Please, please, please,” He whispered and in his very bones he felt a vibration building and building. He nails dug into the ground beneath his hands and then a pulse rippled across the earth. The dark dust circle pulsed and dispersed outwards and Jesse rushed forwards throwing his arms around Stiles’ neck, their connection returned. The guards behind him was shifting though, they muscles twitching to life and rejecting the spell’s dwindling influence on them.  
“Go kid, I’ll be right behind you,” Stiles kept his eyes shut but he felt Jesse’s presence vanish moments later. Now Stiles was actually in trouble. The spell had cost him. Last resort options did by sheer virtue of existence.

He stood and turned slowly scanning each of the guard that were stood in front of him. They were glancing from one to another and then back to Stiles. Stiles wasn’t going to be able to outrun them right now unless he had a significant head start and could resolve the blurriness he could feel around the edges of the senses like a dizziness. He steeled himself as they all appeared to be reaching for their sheaths at their sides.  
“Yeah uh, you can postpone the ‘stab him now!’ response. I’ll stick around for a chat if you’d like,” None of them responded more than the blonde woman dipping her head and frowning. Stiles took a deep breath to steady himself and stepped lightly towards them. “How about some trust exercises,” He turned around when he was a step or so away from them his hands clasped behind his back; very much in reach should they choose to grab him but he knew he was pretty much defenceless right now. And when you’ve got nothing to lose, where’s the harm in a little fun.

“See my back is to you. Clearly I don’t find you as threatening as you’d probably like. Hey, maybe fae don’t actually hurt people if they can help it; benevolence, now there’s an idea to stick in your myth, before you stick it somewhere else,” He moved his foot back as if stepping right up to them, his back still turned. “Maybe you can touch them without going mad,” He felt a pair of gloves grab his clasped hands behind him. Stiles wondered it they were brave or stupid. He casually rolled his head back as if stretching his neck. 

“It was you who healed my sister,” The words sounded strained with shock and Stiles whirled on the spot to look at him curiously. The guy had released Stiles’ hands as quickly as he’d captured them and the second Stiles realised he recognised him, his heart stuttered a double beat. Funny how coincidences could do that he thought quickly.

The guy from the library but now he wasn’t quite as fierce as worn down; enacting his role but his energy was gone, and with it all the power in his very voice that Stiles had found so amusing. Stiles reached out a hand towards him but it was slapped away by the blonde woman stood beside him. Stiles cocked his head to look at her and narrowed his eyes taking her in. He looked back again at the man.  
“Is she still well?” He asked carefully darting his eyes between the blonde and the guy in front of him.  
“Yes-,”  
“Derek, stop talking to it. He’ll be casting a spell,”  
“I don’t think I’d need to,” Stiles said with a mocking sweetness to his voice.  
“If you talk to anyone you’ll talk to me,” A commanding voice made Stiles turn to see an older man approaching them with a hungry gaze. The older man was dressed in a long fur coat that looked so entirely out of place from all the clothing Stiles had seen earlier as he scoped out the docks. His eyes were squinting as if assessing a target. He was in charge, and he had expected Stiles to do a lot more to these guards than just talk to them.  
“Gerard Argent,” The older man introduced himself, “I suppose you’ve heard of me,” Stiles searched his memory for something but nothing came to mind.  
“Huh, no actually,” He shrugged, thinking how conceited humans seeming to be.  
“Funny, since you’ve made a habit of stealing from me, demon,”  
“Fae share knowledge. Human customs are very... uh, excluding, with their knowledge: Where they keep it, how they share it,”  
“Well I certainly won’t share you,” his sweet voice contradicted every other impression he was exhibiting and Stiles bristled at the tone.  
“You think you’ve got me now do you?”  
“Oh I’ve got you, and it doesn’t matter how you freed that boy I’ll have them all as mine when you give them up,”  
Fear pulsed through his very veins and Stiles glared and flexed his fingers, wishing he had even enough to knock this guy off his feet.  
“You want power, you got me. You won’t touch them though; you’ll never get through to them,”  
“You think you can threaten me boy? Hurt me,” Gerard waved nonchalantly down to Stiles’ now clenched fists.  
“I don’t plan to hurt you,” Stiles said carefully.  
“Then you will never win,” Gerard snapped.  
“That’s a matter of perspective.” Stiles countered pointing a finger at him. There was a cry from one of the guards and soon Stiles’ arms were grabbed and yanked behind him back and tied tightly and with skill.  
“We have ways of limiting you power, demon,”  
“Hey that’s not fair! Fae are not demons,” He objected as he tugged ineffectually at the bindings now tightly looped around his wrists.  
“You’re trapped by the demon mark,”  
“Demon mark? Are you kidding me?”  
“Gag him. I’ll not have this demon spewing curses upon us,” Struggling did Stiles little good since his hands were already tied. The gag tasted old and stale against his tongue. He watched as Gerard pulled out a small vial and uncorked it. The older man stepped over and forced the vial up under Stiles’ nose. Stiles tried not to breath but it was the fumes spiriting up from the vial and stinging his eyes that appeared to be doing the most damage. He felt his limbs begin to sag and the grip on his arms behind him loosen.  
“Nighty night little demon,” Stiles heard him sneer, but he was passed out before his knees hit the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this has taken me so long an I promised last Tuesday but one of my friends has been unwell and I have to cover their work shifts cause their boss wouldn't accept she was too ill to work and threatened to fire her if she didn't find her own replacement. You probably don't want to hear this but anyway chapter's here. love you all for the comments and kudos. ( please let me know if there are any glaring errors I've just finishing editing but I'm so tired there's a good chance I've missed something like a whole paragraph)


	4. When You’re Going Through Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has been drugged, kidnapped and is struggling to keep his head straight. Damn it after Lydia got so angry maybe he should have known this was coming.

When he awoke it was as if he’d been dream walking for too long and couldn’t get his bearings. His wrists were still tied but now also wrenched up above him and chained to the wall. He hazily looked around to see he was at the back of some great stone hall, a council chamber of sorts, and surrounded by guards though all had their backs to him. He could barely open his eyes wide enough to get a read on them but that didn’t stop him struggling against the effects of whatever they’d done to him.

He felt washed out and unclear. He couldn’t feel the edge of his senses, and he couldn’t connect to his family. He could feel them but only faintly, they were okay but he couldn’t get to them. Stiles tried to concentrate as best he could on what was around him instead. Maybe if he could escape these bindings or the room he could feel a little more capable. Each time he thought he had a hook on something steady another wave of mental nausea came over him and he had to take a deep breath and start again. 

His hearing slowly became less muted and he could pick out Gerard’s ranting from the main arena of the chamber. When one of the guards shifted from foot to foot, a gap emerged between him and his comrade that Stiles could see through to a group stood around the throne. 

Gerard was on the highest step at the head of the room, looking as if he’d just stood up from the throne, and he was now shouting at someone Stiles couldn’t see. There was a cold amusement on the face of the woman stood just to Gerard’s right. Stiles’ gaze drifted on to the guard he did recognise. Derek, who was stood to attention at the foot of the stairs, at the head of a group of guards Stiles vaguely thought were the same as from the docks, but he couldn’t be sure. Derek was composed and stoic but Stiles could see the way he was flexing his fists behind his back and then switching to wringing his hands together so tightly Stiles could see the stark white contrast on his skin. 

A yelled outburst startled Stiles when Gerard ordered whoever it was he’d been talking to, to leave the room. Through the guards’ legs Stiles saw the flurry of a dark mud dirtied cloak. In their hurry to leave the person, tripped on the stone flour and Stiles saw a girl with wild mousey hair scramble to retrieve the books that had fallen from her arms. As guards yanked her up to their feet and shoved her carelessly out of the door. She twisted and struggled against their grasp and for just a second Stiles caught her eye before she was escorted away.

The heavy doors were shut behind them and the noise echoed around Stiles’ head for what felt like an age. His stomach was rolling and the cold hard stone floor and wall was giving him cold shooting pains up into his body. He’d never normally get cold. Stiles concentrated on the thoughts of his dad and Scott, the warmth there faint from a familial association of their presence if not the connection actually pulsing right now. It was painful but fuelled Stiles’ determination to survive this ordeal.

“The Lady Katherine Argent,” Stiles’ attention was snapped back to the current scene in front of him at the sound of the introduction. Gerard’s attention too had been caught by the woman now entering.  
“Ah, my dear Kate. Tell me did you enjoy your hunting trip? I didn’t expect you back quite so soon,” His affectionate and calm voice was jarring from how Stiles had seen him thus far.  
“I didn’t expect you to be doing your own hunting in my absence,” She countered sweetly as she crossed the room from an archway behind the throne to Gerard, stepping up to him and kissing his cheek. She didn’t glance in Stiles’ direction once but he could understand well enough she was talking about him.  
“You came back because of my quandary, what of your own?”  
“False information,” she told him, scoffing in disgust.  
“And the source?”  
“Dealt with,” Gerard cocked his head to one side, and Kate sidled back over to him.

Stiles would have sworn he saw the woman give a sideward glance to Derek before smirking and cupping her hand to whisper into Gerard’s ear. Gerard listened carefully and then nodded to her. She was clearly a confidant of his. Gerard glanced around the room and Stiles stared back. When Gerard realised his was conscious his lips curled back into a sick sneer. Stiles did his best to glare back but he felt so cloudy it doubtless came across to him a withered acceptance or drunken haze.

“Perhaps you would like to consult on our current quandary my dear?”  
“What is it?” Still she didn’t look in Stiles’ direction as she spoke about him.  
“Demon,”  
“Then why isn’t it dead?” If Stiles couldn’t tell they were related, he could tell they were related.  
“He has powers, and he could lead us to the rest of its nest,”  
“You plan to torture it?”  
“Convince.” Gerard corrected her, though Stiles could imagine little difference in his practice techniques. “Morrell’s girl was up here just before your arrival. Tells me that any aggression against these creatures, invites a greater force upon the attacker,”  
“So don’t do it yourself,”  
“She says the creature can be bonded with. That someone bonded to it can’t be reciprocally hurt,”

“Derek can take him,” Kate volunteered waving a hand in Derek’s direction. And Stiles saw Derek clench his fist behind his back. Of all of them he kind of felt safer with Derek. His dad would lock him up himself if Stiles ever admitted feelings of trust for one of them but Stiles certainly didn’t trust that Gerard or Kate.

“He needs to be able to extract the information we need. He may be your-,” Kate cleared he her throat and Gerard paused, “He’s too soft,”  
“We can’t bond with the demon. It’d ruin our standing in court but it needs to be kept under control, He can do that much,”  
“Derek,” The older man cooed; he sounded like a snake creeping up on his prey getting ready to asphyxiate it.  
“My lord,”  
“You will take the demon. And bond with it.” Stiles saw Derek shoot him a cursory glance. His face slightly paler and his eyes were wide as if panicked.  
“My lord, when my kind bonds that’s,” His kind, Stiles snorted. Humans the lot of them. Probably didn't realise most of the fairy tales that told their children were true.  
“I know what that entails." He heard Gerard snap. "You will bond with it. Gain the information we need and then kill it when we are satisfied the creature cannot be of any more use,”  
“MY lo-,”  
“ENOUGH. Leave, and take it with you,” Derek was shaking as he bowed his head and strode to the back of the room when Stiles was tied. The guard unchained him at the jerk of Gerard’s hand and Derek grabbed him by the arm the second his hands were free. Stiles tried to look up at him as he was pulled to his feet but his legs could barely keep him balanced. He shut his eyes as he was tugged along concentrating primarily on keeping his feet walking one in front of another rather than working out where they were going. He could hear groups of people muttering around them as they passed, some clearly enough to hear futile faith and protection recitations.

“I’m going to throw up,” Stiles moaned, half afraid to say anything in fear of retching mid sentence, the other half not entirely sure he was saying the words in the right order. Derek’s grip on his arm tightened.  
“Don’t,” He muttered.  
“Doesn’t feel like I have a choice,”  
“You throw up here they’ll kill you before you’ve finished heaving,”  
“Sounds like they’re gonna anyway,”  
“Hold it,” Derek snapped. Stiles tried. He desperately thought of everything other than him rolling stomach cramps. Derek did seem so speed up his pace and dragged Stiles down out of the way corridors where there were less and less people around until Stiles had lost track of anything more than attempting not to crumple to his knee when he was shoved down and backwards onto a low bench. Moments later a bucket was shoved under his nose and Stiles’ body shuddered and brought up the contents of his stomach before he’d really processed that yes, Derek was giving him a bucket to throw up in. He groaned before another jolting cramp had his stomach heaving. His throat burned. The back of his eyes burned. He spat to get the taste out of his mouth which just left it dry and putrid.

“Can you walk?” Derek asked him, slowly moving the bucket away and shoving it under the bench Stiles was sat on. Stiles followed the movement and then with sustained effort squinted up at him.  
“Can you stop swaying?”  
“I’m not,”  
“Oh.” Stiles pushed his palms into his eyes  
“We have to go,”  
“Make me,” Stiles sneered, stubbornly sinking down into a slouch against the wall. Derek took him at his word. He looped an arm around Stiles’ back and effectively scooped him up onto his feet. Stiles felt the blood rush from his head and he all but collapsed all over again  
“Stop being difficult,” Stiles was too light headed to snap out a retort. 

“Morrell!” He called out to the small dark room.  
Stiles wasn’t coherent enough to know from where she came from but a dark faced woman was peering at him closely not a minute later, “I am the one to be bonded. I need the ritual,” Derek said plainly. The face disappeared from view  
“Malia, go. This is not something you should see,” Stiles heard footsteps several feet away and then a door shut across the other side of the room.  
“Oh Derek,” He heard the woman sigh. Stiles’ own eyes were glued to the floor watching the candlelight flicker  
“Don’t. I do not want your pity,”  
“Admiration then,” She checked her tone “You are a strong man to carry so much burden with you,”  
“‘M not a burden,” Stiles mumbled, barely able to form the words. He wasn’t about to be passive in all of this though. Bonding with a human was unheard of. It was rarely for Fae to bond unless they had been courting for near millennia, humans had such short insignificant lives they were never considered for a substantial bond. Stiles tried to look up at them but his sight and balance were working against him and he swayed uneasily on his feet.  
“Well you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” Derek said, helping Stiles sit on the closest bench.  
“‘S what I do,” He tried to smile but everything felt like it was spinning and the only thing steadying him was likely Derek’s hand on his shoulder.  
“Derek, I can perform the ritual, but is there really no other way,”  
“Lord Argent commands I bond with him,” Derek lifted his hand from Stiles shoulder.  
Stiles kept his eyes on the floor still trying to feel a sense of calm. If only he could reconnect with the Wills, or his sense for his family, his dad; that was what always soothed his twitchiness. The second he got home he was going to work on a way to stop spells like the one he’d last worked from draining the caster. And then send all the bad luck he could muster to this castle.

Morrell crouched down in from of him and he squinted trying to focus on her and what she was saying. She was just coming to the end of her explanation when he could work out some of the words.  
“I’m sorry, this might hurt,” She said, and then the world felt like it was being ripped away. He gasped for breath as if there wasn’t going to get the chance for another.

“Stiles, I know you’re going through hell, but you’ve got to keep going,” He heard Morrell’s words like a whisper through a silence so deafening. It was as though all of life was tearing through him but he couldn’t grasp any of it. He was adrift and alone. So alone in all this white noise. He heard the words repeated back to him like a delayed echo. Alone. Completely alone. 

“Stiles,” That voice, oh that voice. It felt like an anchor that was bringing him back to himself again. There was someone else that could end all this. He gasped and suddenly the colours all around him were sharpening in to shapes ad objects. His eyes drifted to Morrell who was stood above him and the down to Derek who was crouched at his side. He felt safe as though this was how it should be. It was both deeply satisfying and then almost as suddenly extremely repulsive. He felt nauseous again and then he was on his hands and knees, doubled over and spewing what little was in his stomach onto the floor. It was so empty to be connected to one person. He reached for the Wills that had been there to guild him all his life and felt nothing. He was deserted. His home must think him dead. He sank further to the floor and wailed. The loudest cry of anguish he could manage to rip from his lungs. His vocal chords hurt but he still couldn’t stop. 

In the back of his mind he could feel Derek’s panic. It was Derek’s voice in the background begging Morrell to make him stop. It must be such an incredible inconvenience having access to all the despair and emptiness Stiles was feeling right now. He blacked out.


	5. Getting To Know You

When he came to he’d been laid on a long cushioned couch, the crackling sounds of a fire behind him felt familiar and comfortable if nothing else did and he shut his eyes to reach for it in his mind. There was nothing. No connection to the elements, and no sensation of his kin reassuring him through this nightmare. He still felt so empty.

Slowly and still unsure of his surroundings he turned over and pushed himself to sit up. The room he was in was huge and there were in fact two fireplaces, one at each end both with fires burning brightly in them. He could feel the warmth of the closer one on his skin but that didn’t stop the hairs of his arms standing on end and a shiver wracked through him when he concentrated on where his connection to his dad and Scott and his kin ought to be. He groaned and rubbed his fingers over his forehead.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” He jerked his head up. He hadn’t realised Derek had been sat in the dark corner of the room until he’d stood and stepped out of the shadows. “How do you feel Stiles?” Derek knelt down next to the sofa and reached slowly for Stiles’ wrist. Stiles pulled it just out of reach. Derek was watching him carefully but he didn’t move to grab his hand. A soft couch as opposed to chains, hesitation and cautious consideration instead of aggressive manhandling; He shouldn’t trust this man more than anyone else he’d met after two brief confrontations, he knew he shouldn’t. A pull in his gut told him otherwise. He hoped it wasn’t the spell. He really hoped he could believe that this was his own instincts trusting this soldier who hadn’t seemed like he wanted Stiles dead. Hesitantly he moved his hand back into Derek’s reach. Derek took it carefully, two fingers coming to rest on his pulse at his wrist. Stiles felt the tension in his head and his stomach ease. Perhaps this was what mates could do for one another.  
“Cold. Cold and empty,” He answered...And lost and scared deep in his gut, all things he didn’t want to admit. “And I don’t remember telling you my name,”  
“You told my sister your name when you healed her,”  
“This is a funny way to say thank you,”  
“This wouldn’t be my choice,”  
“Yeah, I figured,” Stiles pulled his hand out of the tender grasp. Derek sat back on his heels but didn’t move too far away. He bit his lip and kept his eyes on Stiles. Another shiver threatened to shake him to his core Stiles determinedly kept himself still as possible.

“What do you eat?” Derek asked, his head cocked to one side. It reminded him of the way Scott looked when he revealed a new trick. Curiosity and confusion all rolled into an expression that was endearingly amusing; had it been on someone other than a glorified gaoler.   
“Human souls,” He watched Derek’s eyes as they flickered up to meet his at the comment. He stared back at Stiles for but a moment before replying dryly.  
“We don’t have a jar of those on hand right now,”  
“Pity,” Derek waited as if expecting Stiles to answer seriously but Stiles just couldn’t find it in himself. When it finally dawned on Derek that Stiles was unlikely to answer he pushed himself to his feet and crossed to the fire to tend it with a long poker. Stiles immediately wondered if it were soon to be used for less savoury activities.

His gut clenched and fear induced wince Stiles only curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his knees and hugging them tightly.  
“Are you cold?” Derek asked when he glanced up, noticing Stiles’ shivers.  
“Yes,”  
“Come sit by the fire,”  
“It won’t help,” with a sigh Derek moved back over to him and sat down on the floor, leaning against the couch by Stiles’ feet.  
“Then what can I do?”   
“Nothing,” he said it with as little expression as possibly though bitterness was filtering through regardless.  
“Stiles, I’m trying,”  
“You needn’t bother. You hate me!”  
“It comes and goes,” Derek muttered under his breath looking away.  
“Whatever that means,” Stiles muttered as he sank into the corner of the sofa further; a reply in kind.  
“Would it help it I tell you about myself?”  
“Go ahead,” Stiles waved a hand in his direction, “Absolve yourself of blame and guilt by all means,”  
“Nothing could do that,” Stiles wondered if Derek could hang his head any lower.  
“And if that’s not a sentence that’d hook me,”  
“I thought… you said you liked stories, sharing knowledge. I-,” Derek shook his head and looked away, “Never mind,”  
“What do you think you know of me?”  
“You like to read, to learn. You’re a benevolent trickster spirit who doesn’t like to hurt people. You play with them instead and you’re careless. Two others of your kind I’ve seen with you twice now, a guy with dark hair and a dopey smile, and a girl with fiery red hair looks like a force of nature, then again you do too and…” Derek trailed off staring into the fire.  
“Have you run out of ideas? I mean most of them are pretty much on track. I’m a little surprised you didn’t use the word evil or devil once,”  
“Your laugh,” Derek interrupted which startled Stiles into parroting it straight back.  
“My laugh?”  
“It’s-,” Stiles raised an eyebrow and watching Derek struggle for words. “For years I’ve, no-one has had anything to smile about let alone laugh for. There’s been war and death since before I can remember. But, the way your laugh sounded. I-, we, could hear it echoing through the castle for days after you’d left. Not even Gerard’s wrath could stop the feeling, hope I guess, that there was change coming,”  
“I stole a few books,”  
“You did more than that,”  
“Yeah? And look where it got me,” Derek leant back looking up directly at Stiles who shifted uncomfortably under the gaze. He turned away and silence stretched out between them. Stiles stared over the back of the seat into the room and slowly dragged his eyes from one piece of furniture to the next, across the fireplace at the other end of the room and over some of the paintings scattered across the walls. He found he didn’t care for any of them. He dozed off watching the flames waver the shadows across the carpet.

“Stiles. Stiles wake up just a minute. I’ll show you where you can sleep,” Stiles stood drowsily and wobbled unsteadily on his feet. Derek shot a hand out to steady him. Stiles flinched at the contact and the hand was quickly jerked away.   
“Sorry,” He muttered before turning abruptly and leading the way out of the room. The house seemed to get bigger and bigger as the traipsed up the stairs, past multiple offshoot corridors and doorways, then finally swerving off along a corridor lined with portraits; Stiles would otherwise have been infinitely curious about had they not been in the home of his captor. The only route he would need would be the route out of there.

Derek pushed open a door and held it as Stiles entered. The room was huge and lavishly decorated. The bed was made with gold thread curtains hanging surrounding it.   
“Sleep well Stiles,”   
“Wait!” Derek glanced back at him, “Where are you sleeping?”  
“I… probably won’t,”  
“Oh, uh right,” Derek nodded his head and then left without another word.

Stiles was tired, the sheets wear sleek and comfortable, and the room was dead silent; everything that you might like for a much needed long night’s sleep. Stiles curled this way and that, unable to get comfortable. He’d never felt as alone as in his own barren mind. 

He shoved the covers off and sat up looking around. There had to be something in this room that could make it feel less alien. He shuffled across to where the curtains were letting a sliver of moon light in between where they met. He yanked them back and his eyes fell on a window seat. It was deep enough to lean back on the wall and long enough for his legs if he curled up. The window was clouded with condensation from the cold air outside but Stiles was cold enough already he barely felt the difference. He could only open the window a mere fingers width but nature was rarely silent and he could faintly hear a fox and a pair of owls calling out in the darkness. This was better than silence at least.

He tore the sheets from the bed and threw them into the alcove to cushion the seat, and wrapped them up around himself once he’d sat atop them. He leant his forehead against the glass and listened to the faint sounds of nature on the other side. He couldn’t help but let his mind drift to how his dad must be feeling right now; When he got home he’d never be let out again. Scott would be blaming himself. Lydia cursing both his stupidity and that she couldn’t have predicted the threat more clearly. He couldn’t be there for them and there’d be no rescue coming for a dead guy. He couldn’t reach out to them, reassure them, or use his magic. He probably couldn’t get home unless this bond was reversed. Tears welled and ran down his cheeks at the thought of everything he knew being so out of reach. As if knowing he needed lulling to sleep a slow patter of rain began to hit the window as a cloudy shower passed overhead.

 

“Stiles,” There was a knock at the door and then his name was called again. Stiles didn’t reply but now he was awake he did stretch out his legs and stand. Being curled up to sleep had left his muscles tight and there was no muttered incantation to ease the aches that would work. He gathered up the sheets and threw them in a heap on the bed and he heard a further knock on the door and then it open slowly. Derek appeared glancing around the door to where his gaze fell on Stiles, then to the pile of bed sheets and then back to him.   
“Breakfast will be ready in a bit. If you’d like some?” Stiles was about to give some retort when his stomach gave him away with a loud rumble that would have rivalled Scott’s appetite on a good day.  
“Provided it hasn’t got more poison in it,”  
“I don’t want to poison you,”  
“Yeah but does Gerard,” He huffed as he pushed past Derek and out into the corridor.  
“The breakfast room is this way,”  
“A room, a specific room solely for breakfast?” Stiles quickened his step to walk at Derek’s side.  
“Yes,”  
“So you can’t eat breakfast anywhere else?”  
“I like that room. It gets the sun in the morning,”  
“So does outside,” He added, prodding Derek in the shoulder as he spoke in an effort to get his attention.  
“Well we’re not going outside,” He said, keeping his eyes ahead of them.  
“Do you have a room for every meal?” Stiles asked   
“I take lunch wherever I’m working at the time, and then dinner in the dining room,”   
“What about midnight snacks? You could be a cut above the rest if you had a room for that,” Stiles held in a smile and watched Derek shut his eyes and looked to be internally struggling with his own. Derek turned and met Stiles eyes and Stiles stared back.  
“‘Snacks’ isn’t a meal time,”  
“They’re just as important as one,” Stiles waved a finger in Derek’s face to both emphasise his point and irk the man some more. Derek’s eyes followed it and then flickered back to Stiles’ eyes as he pushed it out of his space.   
“I’ll bear that in mind,”  
“You should,” he snarked, letting a smirk twist the corner of his lip when Derek looked away.

As they came up on a double doorway the smell of burning meat and flesh caught in the air. Stiles cringed and stepped back.  
“Errgh, what’s that smell?” Stiles threw a hand up over his nose and mouth   
“Breakfast,”  
“I don’t actually eat souls you know,” Derek frowned, still not understanding Stiles’ issue.  
“Its bacon, and sausages, among other things. Just cooked meats,”  
“It’s disgusting and repulsive,”  
“Well there’s more than just that, you can pick from what the cook has made for us,” He tried to reconcile but Stiles’ stomach was turning from the smell alone.  
“I threw up enough yesterday thanks,”  
“So you’re not coming in,”  
“Nope,” Derek took a deep breath and sighed.  
“Fine,” And then turned and pushed the door open. Stiles glared at his back as it swung shut behind him; glared for as long as it took until the door had caught a waft of the smell to hit his senses even stronger. Stiles turned on hi heel and headed back the way they’re come. He briefly thought that if he could find the kitchen in this great place he could scare the chef into never cooking meat again. His stomach turned out another grumbling roll and Stiles reconsidered. If he found the chef he would ask, with all the manners his dad had taught him, if he could give him something edible.

“I thought demons were sneaky or elusive or something?” Stiles turned to see where the voice was coming from when a sharp pain caught from his ear and held him in place. Stiles yelped and found he couldn’t turn from where the grip held him. From the corner of his eye he could see the blonde woman from the docks that’d stopped Derek from talking to him.   
“Shouldn’t I be subjected to your wrath by now?” The woman asked with a daring playfulness in her tone. It wholly differed from her fear induced wariness he’d heard briefly the previous time they’d met.  
“Not my style,” He said through a wince  
“Huh, it is mine,” She twisted his ear tighter.  
“Ow, o wow, yeah, I can see that, feel that, oh please freaking stop,” He tried to pulled her fingers from their grip but to no avail.  
“You are not going to cause trouble here under my watch,” She told him, low and forceful. A force to be reckoned with as much as Lydia might be should she come across an outsider in her midst.  
“Yes, yes got it. Please let go,” He squinted in hopes of avoiding spilling the tears now in his eyes.  
“You will not attempt to escape, you will not hurt Derek or any of his staff, and you will not go into any of the staff’s personal rooms,” She listed off as if nonchalantly reading off an inventory.  
“Erica let him go!” Derek’s low growl of a voice came from down the corridor.  
“I’m not done!” She yelled back, her nails digging into his ear lobe further, “You will not make a mess of anything-,”  
“Erica, stand down,” The grip immediately vanished at Derek’s low and Stiles ducked away from her clasping a hand to his now throbbing ear.  
“I was just setting some ground rules,” she whined, her eyes were averted to the floor.   
“I will be setting any rules if necessary,”  
“Nah man she covered just about everything,” Derek was tracing him all over and Stiles hated the weak impression he was giving his captors. He could hear Lydia’s scolding in his head for giving his nature away so quickly.   
“Are you alright?”  
“Yeah fine, well, mostly fine. How often do you practice wrenching peoples’ ears from their heads?” He shot her a sideways glance and she shrugged.  
“Not often,” Erica glanced at him as she spoke and then upon catching Derek still staring her sown set her eyes back to the skirting board.  
“Go help yourself to any of the food in the breakfast room,” Derek told her and she nodded without looking up.  
“Yes sir!” And in the time it took Stiles to look up she was already hurrying down the way Stiles had come.  
“Isn’t that rewarding her?” Stiles asked as she rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight.  
“I have little enough control over Erica but I have full faith that she’s working with my best intentions,” He concernedly looked Stiles up and down again, “Even if she can be a little heavy handed,” Stiles’ hand rubbed his ear lobe some more as the pain dissipated.

 

“Come on,” He beckoned as he turned and heading down the corridor. Stiles scowled after him and then started after him. Derek slowed for Stiles to catch up with him,  
“I can’t promise I won’t break each and every one of those rules. Y’know, just as soon as I know her tricks and how to get away with it,”  
“That’s probably not very wise, to cross Erica,”  
“Never claimed to be wise,” He shrugged, throwing his arms out wide.  
“Not very smart to reveal your plan either,” Stiles rolled his eyes, smirked and snorted.  
“There’s not better trick than when they know its coming and it still catches you unaware,”   
“I’ll take your word for it,” Derek nodded once. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Derek glance to him once, twice and then again. He was just about to ask if he was bleeding or something when Derek did ask when was troubling him.  
“Why did you run off?”  
“Run? Pretty sure I didn’t run anywhere,”   
“I came back out from breakfast and you weren’t there,” He sounded confused and his words were softly spoken.  
“Well I wasn’t going in your dead animal room,” Stiles sneered. Derek cringed at the sneer as he spat out the words.  
“I was going to bring something out for you. When you weren’t outside when I came back out I went back to check your room and then heard you yelling,”  
“She startled me!” Stiles protested against Derek’s raised eyebrow and levelled unimpressed stare. Stiles crossed his arms defensively and pouted. Derek shook his head at gesture.  
“Erica’s in charge in my absence,” he added.   
“That’ll mean…”  
“You need to stay out of trouble,” Derek told him. It felt like an order more than advice; Stiles bristled against it.  
“Define trouble,” He stuck his chin out at the comment. It wasn’t as if Stiles had caused any trouble thus far.   
“You’d need to ask her to define trouble,”  
“No. Way. Does she sharpen her nails to points or something?”  
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t ask. You might give her ideas,”  
“Where’re we going anyway?”  
“Library,”  
“Huh?”  
“I was hoping you might find it interesting,”  
“I’ve probably read everything in there,” Stiles replied offhandedly.   
“Then you can sit in there with me while I reply to correspondence. I’ve had a maid take some breakfast you might like up there too,”  
“Well I suppose a library might have a little more life in it than the other rooms I’ve seen,”  
“Life?”  
“Yeah, books have smells and stories, they react to touch and they feel as alive,” Derek looked at him sceptically, “You don’t believe me,”  
“The idea seems a little eccentric,” Derek said as he pushed open a door and held it as Stiles walked in past him.  
“Well, what do humans know?” Stiles asked stepping past him lightly on his feet and then coming to a fast stop as his eyes fell on the rows and rows of bookshelves spreading out in front of them.   
“I’m a werewolf,” Derek sidled past and over to a table laden with fruit and breads that Stiles barely noticed as he tore his gaze from the books.  
“You’re a werewolf?”  
“Yes. So is Erica, my sisters, and a few others of my staff. I thought you’d be able to tell,” he had his back to Stiles as he filled a plate.  
“Maybe if I could feel your energy. Your spell took all of that. I thought you were just a really self pitying human,” Derek turned back to face him, popping a morsel into his mouth as he circled back past Stiles, “Now I find out you’re a self pitying werewolf instead. I guess I know why Gerard looked like you were his least favourite in a room of fifty or so soldiers and guards,” He followed Derek as he crossed to sit by a large ornate desk. Derek dropped the plate on the desk as he took a seat in a chair so carefully carved it might have well have been a throne. Stiles immediately scooped up the plate and sat in its place instead. Stiles saw the way a frown began to form momentarily though Derek purposefully ignored the action, keeping his focus on the work he sifted through. He glanced cursorily over the food Derek had chosen as he placed it on the low shelf above the desk.  
“As a child I was his ward. Or prisoner of war depending on how you look at it. I was a strong fighter I ended up rising through the ranks of his guard once I had a little instruction,” He took out a pen and inkpot from two cubby holes in the desk and began to write as he spoke.  
“Your instruction didn’t stand up much to fae huh?” He said, popping a slice of apple into his mouth.  
“That’s different,”  
“Why?” He said around eating; his dad would have smacked him a round the head.  
“Outside Gerard’s library, I thought you could have killed my sister,”  
“You would have tried to kill me?”  
“I’m glad I didn’t,”  
“Will you kill me now?” Stiles asked; he’d heard Gerard’s words when he’d decided who would bear the bonding. Derek sighed.  
“I don’t know,”  
“They’ll threaten her, your sister, won’t they? If you don’t kill me when they ask you to,”  
“Yes,” Stiles could empathise with Derek’s conflict. He reached out cupping Derek’s face with both hands and lifting it up so Derek could only look to him.  
“Don’t kill me.”   
“Stiles,” Where his fingers rested at Derek’s throat and jaw he could feel the tremble that preceded and followed.  
“Get me out of Gerard’s control and I can save you, your sister, Erica, everyone you’re protecting,” Derek’s eyes closed as he took a deep shuddering breath before he refocused on what was in front of him again.  
“I can’t trust that you can promise that,” Derek removed Stiles hands and set them down on the table brushing his thumbs over the back of Stiles’ hands briefly before withdrawing. In truth Stiles couldn’t promise that everyone Derek would want safe could be. Stiles would have tried though. Derek returned his concentration to his correspondence and Stiles continued to graze from the breakfast plate as if such an intense moment had never been shared. 

He had to stop himself from believing he knew the man in front of him. The energy he knew to be buried in him was evidently subdued from the pressure, fear and threats he couldn’t fight. Derek had people he fought for, people that were already used as leverage over him. The werewolf thing was important, and if Stiles could remember more about the subspecies he might have more questions, but looking at the man sat in front of him already suggested a mountain of questions Stiles didn’t know if he wanted the answers to.  
He’d dreamed about this guy after he’d seen him only once so perhaps this was simply a cruel twist of fate giving him what he’d thought he’d wanted; the opportunity to know this enchanting man better.   
Stiles shook his head slightly and willed the thoughts away and leant forwards so that he could read the letters under Derek’s hand more easily. Stiles had to lean in close to read his cursive letters upside down. ‘My dearest sister’ headed the page.

“Will I get to see your sister?”  
“Cora? Probably.” He stuttered and rested the pen against his forefinger as he looked up. He jolted back when after a moment he realised how closely they were sat. “Uh Kate’s coming by tomorrow. Cora is part of her personal guard now,”  
“Kate’s the one I saw in the hall right? In league with Gerard,”   
“His daughter,” Derek added. The knowledge didn’t make Stiles feel any better about her near arrival.  
“Will she- is she going to?”  
“No,” Stiles bit his lip and nodded; trying to believe Derek’s conviction and force down the anxiety. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself like his mum and Melissa had taught him to do so that he could think clearly. Explain what it was causing the response so he could tackle it practically.   
“They talked about hunting like a game. It was sick,”  
“Hunting is more than a hobby for them. It’s a quest. If they can’t learn from it or use it they’ll kill it,” He paused, “They want me to get information from you,”  
“I won’t let you get to my family,” There was no uncertain fact of that.  
“I guessed as much,”

Stiles watched for some time as Derek shuffled papers, wrote out notations and letters and as he pondered, lifted things from the plate to eat. The silence wasn’t tense or stressed, and though his mind kept returning to the many possible things could be inflicted on him should Kate that it to fancy, each time he would feel Derek’s arm bump against his knee as he wrote, the contact soothing in absence of his fae’s natural connection to each other.

“Is this all you’re doing today?” Stiles asked when he began to feel the itch of irritation of having been sat in one place so long. He waved a hand across the desk of mismatched papers, pens and ink pots.  
“I’m only here for another few days before I need to go into town. I want to make sure you’re as settled as possible before I have to leave you alone for extended periods,”  
“I’m not a child,”  
“I’m just concerned,”  
“You’re just keeping your prize safe,” Stiles snapped, pushing himself off the desk  
“That’s not true,” Derek insisted but it wasn’t as reassuring as he’d surely hoped. Stiles huffed “Just, why don’t you take a look around, maybe you’ll find something interesting,”

As much as Stiles didn’t like to be given instructions there weren’t many options; should he choose to wander the house by himself there was a half a chance he’d run into Erica again, and the other half a chance he’d get irrevocably lost. At least in the library he would likely be able to find the door again. In long strides he meandered his way to the farthest shelf and then followed it down, zigzagging through openings and doubling back until he was in a circle of shelves. The warmth and comforting smell only books could secure inside him and whose golden brown spines glistened. Stiles pulled one of the oldest looking texts from the shelf and ran his fingers along the edge of the pages. A spark bubbling under his fingers and though it was felt only as a faint ripple in his mind Stiles could barely hold back a sob of feeling the pulse of knowledge in his very bones. The bond hadn’t taken everything from him after all.

 

This was where Derek found him some time later leafing through a book he wasn’t reading but was so old he knew it by the smell alone. Stiles had his eyes closed and his hand spread out wide across the page as Derek approached. When he heard the footsteps stop and no questions or conversation began Stiles opened his eyes.  
“You’re library is alive,”   
“And you can feel it?”  
“It’s so warm,” Stiles ran his fingertips along the elegant writing covering the page with focus he could feel the euphoric rush echoing in its pages.   
“I understand you don’t want to like any of what’s happening to you. But perhaps, I don’t know, will this make things better for you?” Derek asked. Stiles took a deep breath to tamper down the feelings so he could focus on the present.  
“A little,” he nodded, staring up at Derek who gave a small smile.  
“I’m glad,” he said nodding slowly.  
“I don’t even know what these are about,” his fingertips skirted   
“A lot of these books were my family’s. They were brought here after-,” Derek cut himself off and his head shot up. With a stumble of footsteps Erica shot around the corner of the bookshelves.

“Derek, Kate Argent is here.”


	6. Threat of Harm

“Derek, Kate Argent is here.”  
Derek’s whole demeanour changed at the words and Stiles could feel his own gut turn at the reaction the woman’s name could illicit from the man. His face had entirely steeled over  
“Get Stiles out of sight, now,” Erica nodded grabbed Stiles by his arm and yanked him up and from the room.  
“She was supposed to be coming tomorrow. Derek said she’d be here tomorrow,” The words didn’t seem to effect Erica in any way  
“I guess she was just too excited to visit us again,”  
“She does this a lot?”  
“Likes to think of us as her little play things,” Erica sneered as she pulled him along. There was hatred in her voice that mirrored the feelings Stiles could read from Derek.

Minutes later she was shoving him in through a doorway to a bedroom and reeling off more orders, “Stay in here. Lock the door. If you hear anyone trying to get in. regardless of if they identify themselves or not you do not let them in. You can hide yourself right,”  
“Not now,” Stiles knew how much that sounded like he was whining while they were panicking in an effort to protect him.  
“Then do what you can, I’ve got to get back to Derek. Do not come out for any reason while that woman is in this house,”  
“But what-?” The door shut behind her and Stiles was left standing in the bedroom. Clearly a used bedroom but not the one he’d been in before. He quickly flicked the latch on the door and then stepped back. With Erica’s words running through his mind his stomach churned at the thought of it not being enough; he pulled up the chest of drawers across the door too. It made him feel a little more secure in this lavish prison cell. He briefly considered jumping out of the window but didn’t think it would put him in an any better position. He wasn’t sure how much fae he still had in him and surviving a two story drop without injury might not be in the fates. He chickened out of testing his limits.

He circled the room slowly. There were no portraits lining the walls but there were a scattering of personal items on a dressing table nearby that Stiles gravitated towards. 

A small leather bound book and pencil lay on the table amongst other personal effects, brushes combs, small jars of various items, scattered across the table top. Stiles could never quash his curiosity well and he flipped open the first few pages. It was filled with sketches, still life and portraits. There were several sketches of Erica, one of Derek, another young man Stiles thought he recognised though couldn’t place; another guard he’d probably run into at some point he supposed. Stiles scooped up the leather journal and crossed the room to sit on the bed as he flicked through page after page of incredibly detailed drawings. He paused over a few, his fingers tracing the image as if it were more than a flat picture on a page. Stiles didn’t know how long he’d sat there when he’d reached the end of the book and turning the last page he almost felt disappointed there weren’t more.

An extra folded piece of paper fell out onto his lap as he turned the final page. He took out the sheet and opened it out to its full size. 

“Alicia?” He ran his fingers gently over the sketch. It looked almost exactly her image when with her hair loose and a few years taken off her childish features. Like when she’d first wandered into their fae clan. The picture could have been her exactly, with all the innocence and stubbornness of when every kid thinks they know it all. He was so captivated by the image it took his some times of being caught up in a daydream before he questioned how it could come to be there, come to exist.  
“I’ll bring you back some stories spark shine. Promise,” He whispered as he ran his fingers over her image. If he had his magic his could promise her safety in spells but for now just his words would have to do.

 

The door handle rattled behind the chest and Stiles near jumped from the bed  
“Erica open the damn door,” a deep voice called out as the door continued to shake. “Erica!” When the door held Stiles took a few steps towards the bed and fell back on to it. There wasn’t another way out of the room and there wasn’t going to be anyone likely coming in. Whoever was out there moved off and the room and corridor were quiet again. Stiles took a few steps forwards, straining to hear if they had truly given up and left so easily or if they were lingering in the hallway. He’d circled the bed when a thump behind him froze him 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Stiles spun on his heel at the voice, he misbalanced, only catching himself on the bed behind. His eyes fell on a very solid looking guy, tall, dark skin and very strong; snap Stiles in two strong.

“Whoa oh the- freaking fates, where did you come from?” He’d dropped the sketchbook but he didn’t make a move to reclaim it.  
The guy stood with his arms crossed and glowering. The curtains billowed from window behind him and Stiles answered his own question in the back of his mind whilst at the forefront he babbled out of a growing apprehension.  
“Okay, okay, uh Erica shoved me in here to hide me from Kate. Please tell me you’re not going to throw me back to her,”  
“No,” He didn’t seem convinced of himself. Think Stiles, ask the right questions and you might learn something. That’s what his dad had always taught him. When he was overwhelmed with all the information he was taking in he just had to ask the right questions and he could focus on what was important.  
“Are you going to hurt me?” The guy didn’t reply for a few moments  
“Ah, okay,” Stiles said taking a step backwards slowly. He didn’t want to glance away and end up less than completely whole by the time anyone found him.  
“Your kind killed my sister,” He squinted at Stiles and stepped forwards into Stiles’ space, effectively trapping him in the corner of the room.  
“Whoa hey no that would not be us,” Stiles volunteered but the guy squinted and tilted his head unconvinced.  
“We all know the signs fae leave behind when they kill a child. I found the circle of mushrooms. She was young so you’ll have got plenty of years of her life to keep yourself alive,”  
“Well yeah, that’s where a changeling crosses over not actually-.” the guy remained unmoved, his arms crossed and a stony expression that had been hardened against the loss. Stiles changed track, “Wait, did you draw that picture?” The guy frowned, “The drawing I saw, of Alicia. Okay yes, I was snooping but it was a real likeness and she’s not dead. She’s a changeling, she was with us at the docks,”  
“I didn’t see her,”  
“Well no, she left after she took out some guy who was threatening us. She was totally safe,”  
“She’s not safe,”  
“She is! I promise you she is,” Stiles cringed he could feel his heartbeat in his ears as  
“Not if she’s with fae,”  
“I-,”  
“And you’re not even sorry. You run around stealing and laughing and you don’t even apologise,”  
“We don’t steal kids. If it’s in their blood they join us. Alicia was meant to join the fae and she did and to the best of my knowledge she’s happy,”  
“Knowing that means nothing to me anymore,”  
“She’s like a sister to me,”  
“She is my sister,”  
“I can’t bring her back to you,” Stiles said plainly, “She belongs in my world now. It’s almost impossible for a changeling to come back to live here permanently,”  
“Don’t try and make me understand,”  
Stiles’ open mouth clamped shut. He was running through viable options before there was clear potential for this guy to gut him and no one be any the wiser.  
“Derek and Kate have gone out to one of the houses on the estate. You don’t have to be here anymore,”  
“I yeah, I’ll just go then. Uh, yeah. I’m sorry,”  
“Get out,” He shoved the chest of drawers out of the way with one hand and yanked the door open. Stiles didn’t stick around just shot into the corridor and the door slammed behind him. 

Stiles kept close to the wall as he crept down the corridor. Ready to dart away or out of sight at any movement. There were a few staff hurrying in their duties but from the snatches of conversation he heard none were content to be anywhere but the servants quarters while the Argents were near the house. One he glimpsed from where he’d ducked for cover had silent tears down her cheeks and was nearly tripping over her feet as she carried a stack of sheets. There was a lot of fear in this house, possibly this whole country, derived from the threat of the Argent family. He knew he needed to be careful to stay useful to them.

Stiles found himself on a familiar corridor and though the last time he was here he was half asleep and being led towards his bedroom he found himself tracing back the footsteps to where he believed he’d been the day before. Either way a room would be better than being out in the open right now. He listened carefully at the door and when he heard no voices nor sounds from inside he slid in past the door. He was carefully shutting it behind him when someone cleared their throat behind him.  
“Uh hi, I’m Alison,” His head snapped up to a very well dressed girl. She was young but well grown for a human, and certainly old enough to shout for a guard should she realise who he is. He stared at her wide eyed and inwardly cursed himself for having so much bad luck.  
“…and I should not be here,” he stuttered reaching for the door handle again.  
“No wait, I really don’t want to sit here by myself,” She stepped from around the chair and towards him he hand reaching out to thin air.  
“Oh I really don’t think you want to sit with me though,” He shook his head backing up.  
“Why?”  
“Evil destructive fae who wants nothing more than to cause harm and corruption,”  
“Oh,” She glanced down to the floor  
“As I said I’ll just go,” He reached again for the door handle.  
“I met one of your kind before, he was nice,” Stiles looked up, “When my grandfather’s library was raided,” Well at least he knew she was definitely an Argent. His brain was shouting for him to get out of there. Do not engage with the enemy where no one who cares can hear you scream. She’d taken several more steps towards him and was now only a couple from reaching out  
“Yeah, that was me,” He shrugged one shoulder.  
“It didn’t look like you,” She looked confused frowning slightly at him  
“Oh no, I mean I stole the books. The guy who came into your room that must have been my buddy Scott, He said he had some trouble hiding,”  
“He seemed really nervous, I wouldn’t have known he was there until he knocked over a vase,” She ducked her head a little and smiled at the memory.  
“He gets like that around pretty girls,” Stiles admitted, watching her carefully. She blushed and ducked her head to her chest. It was sweet, she definitely had the look of one of Scott’s princesses  
“I almost stabbed him,” So she was definitely capable of threats then.  
“Wouldn’t have done much damage to a fae,”  
“He said. I was glad I didn’t though,” He wasn’t entirely sure where the relief came from but it bubbled up inside until he couldn’t help the outburst.  
“Oh the fates, you tried to stab him!” He rubbed a hand over his hair and smiled, “He didn’t tell me that happened,”  
“Did he tell you he swept me off my feet and ravished me? What fae are supposed to do,”  
“If he had I may have asked him if he’d been possessed or drugged if he had,” She seemed embarrassed by that and Stiles caught the way his words had actually come across.  
“Oh I’m sorry I,” Stiles waved off her words and cut her off in an effort to correct himself.  
“Scotty loves everyone, everything. But we cause trouble not harm,”  
“Will you sit with me for a while?”  
“I may need to make a run for it,”  
“That’s okay. If you’re scared of someone finding you here we can sit over there,” She pointed to a corner of the room half blocked off by screens, more often likely used to keep the warmth of the fire more contained than heating up the whole room. “If you need to you can hide or make a run for it out of that door, it leads down to the kitchens,” A small servant’s door led off just behind the armchairs.  
“You’re an Argent,”  
“Yes,”  
“I’ve heard and seen a bit about Argents,”  
“So you don’t trust me fine. But I don’t know half of what my Grandfather and my Aunt Kate do. I’ve only just been told that supernatural creature are real since I came of age last year,” Stiles watched her dubiously, “How about we talk about our favourite books,”  
“Sure, I can work with that, I guess. I’ve probably read a lot of books you’ve never heard of though,”  
“Kate said Fae can live for hundreds of years. If that’s true I’m not really surprised,” She said as she crossed the room to the seats she’d pointed to she took the one facing away from the main door to the room and Stiles was silently grateful of her choice. He took the seat opposite her “Eh, mostly true. Time is tricky, everyone measures it differently. Depends how you’re connected to the things around you I guess,” He half shrugged, “I can’t really explain it,”  
“Is it like werewolves?”  
“I’m not sure how werewolves measure time,” He paused, “And if this is you trying to get information I’d really rather you not,”  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I haven’t even got your name yet you must think I’m so rude,”  
“Stiles, and you haven’t called me a demon yet so I’m pretty sure you’re ahead by a few points if I was keeping score,” Stiles shrugged.  
“Can I tell you something?” She asked leaning forwards slightly as if in conspiracy with him, he mirrored the action, slightly wary of getting too close to someone who’d admitted trying to stab a Fae previously.  
“I couldn’t tell anyone about meeting your friend Scott, but he convinced me that you’re not as bad as all the tales about your kind,” She smiled, “He talked with me until the bells started ringing and the extra guard were called in and he had to go find the rest of you. He promised he’d come back and show me more of his magic,” Alison giggled and straightened as she leant back.  
“I need to have a serious word about that boy’s euphemisms,” Stiles shook his head slightly.  
“He was sweet,”  
“And he convinced you that we weren’t all bad?”  
“Yes,”  
“I guess he’s helping me no matter what mess I end up in,”  
“Is it hard being here?”  
“Cut off from home,” He tapped his forehead, “Still getting my bearings,”  
“What’s it like being bonded?” She asked quickly and then whatever she read across Stiles’ face made her own falter slightly and she stumbled out an apology, “Sorry, I didn’t mean. I know it’s private what the bond means but…”  
“I don’t feel anything but the lack of what I had before,” He admitted, “Bonds for Fae are much more valuable, treasured. They can’t be crafted or broken like whatever this was,”  
“But Derek’s a werewolf, they bond too. I read that it completes them,”  
“I can’t imagine this doing much of anything for him,”

 

He heard the click of the door behind them and Stiles darted up a second too late after realising the intrusion. He was on his feet but nowhere near the bookshelves or the screens that could shelter him from view. He froze as the person entering came into view, his eyes falling on someone he actually recognised.  
“Your aunt asked me to come-, YOU!” her sullen look was replaced with fury and Stiles saw her eyes flash gold as she strode towards him.  
“Wow Cora hey, I was actually looking forward to seeing you,” He made to take a step backwards and hit the back of his shin against the chair.  
Cora’s face darkened, her eyes wide, “Do you have any idea!” She started as she crossed the room looking as if she were ready to tear his head from his shoulders, “Any idea what you did to me!” Stiles scrambled backwards without looking, straight into the furniture, wincing each time the wood hit his already bruised legs.  
“Uh, healed you, stopped you from bleeding out all over the books,” He suggested as Cora advanced.  
Alison stepped up between them both and somehow that was enough to pause Cora’s progress towards him.  
“You made me into a laughing stock. Let alone whatever you did to Derek,” Cora shouted past the block in her path. Alison put her hand up to Cora’s shoulder to keep her still and Stiles wondered whether she’d be thrown or bitten  
“Cora, he doesn’t understand,” Alison said attempting to placate her.  
“Well it’s about time he did,” She snapped back. Alison stared back at her and Cora averted her eyes  
“Take a breath, put the claws away and then…” Stiles could hear Alison talking slowly and quietly to Cora as the claws detracted from her fingers and the gleam in her eye settled to its natural shade. After a few moments Alison dropped her grip on Cora and stepped back. Cora defiantly shot Stiles a glare as she took the seat next to her.

“The bond werewolves have with their mates is sacred. Cora is a part of Derek’s pack and recognises that he’s made the bond but it’s not secure for what they need. For what their pack needs,” Alison explained slowly, glancing to Cora after every few words. Stiles hovered at the corner of the chair he had occupied; Sitting down meant he was a stationary target.

“Werewolves bond once in their lifetime if that,” Cora snapped, “They feel everything from their mate and if Derek wasn’t taking this!” She pulled out a bottle from her jacket, “You’d be able to feel each other everywhere, all the time; because that’s how mates are supposed to feel,”  
“I didn’t ask him to. This isn’t my fault!”  
“It doesn’t matter. Whatever spell you cast on him when you met him has stuck. I hope you’re happy,”  
“I didn’t and I’m not,” He said firmly  
“What?”  
“I didn’t cast any spell,” She scoffed at his words and looked away past Alison  
“Oh congratulations,” Cora muttered.  
“Cora they’re not bad people,” Alison insisted as she reached to grab Cora’s hand and take the vial from her. Stiles could see the way her hand was clenched around it and realised Alison might believe it would be crushed.  
“They’re not people,” Cora hissed; words spat out like poison.  
“If you think like my grandfather you aren’t either,” Alison added and Stiles was starting to believe she wasn’t like her family after all.  
“That doesn’t mean anything,”  
“It means everything!” Alison raised her voice and though it had little effect on Cora Stiles was more than a little shaken at how she was coming to the defence of someone, something, she’d only met briefly.  
“His kind is corrupt and selfish. Everything that Derek isn’t. Derek doesn’t deserve this,”  
“And I do! If I could go home I would,” Stiles interjected erring both girls from their  
“Don’t you dare,” The darkness crossed back into her features he voice dropping to low threatening tones. He half regretted refocussing her attention on him.  
“What?” He asked.  
“You leave to go back to your demon hell and the bond breaks. You’ll kill him,”  
“How in all of nature has that insanity come into being?” He rolled his eyes wide, a huff of frustration of his own slipping out serving only to infuriate Cora more.  
“Werewolves mate for life. If you leave he’s failed to protect you and he’ll suffer for it,”  
“Mother Nature doesn’t kill people for mistakes like that!” He reasoned. Mother Nature was the creation of life and resolution in death but she was never malicious. The fates don’t punish people for loving and making mistakes.  
“Mother Nature doesn’t exist, and if she does she gave up with us a long time ago. What does exist is a werewolf curse, and various magical beings like you,”  
Stiles felt his chest stutter and his bottom lip quivered as he witnessed such hurt in her tone. Anger and frustration and hurt.  
“I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I’ve been hurt. Where’s the fairness in that?”  
“I guess you shouldn’t have come through from your dimension then, cause all this world does is hurt you,” She pulled away from Alison and stood sharply circling round behind the chairs her fists tight and breathing deeply as if trying to keep herself under control. 

All three were silent for what seemed to stretch on for ages until quite suddenly Cora cocked her head to one side angled towards to door. Both Stiles and Alison followed her movement carefully as she was listening carefully. Her eyes then snapped to Stiles and she crossed the room in a few stiles before he had time to back out of range.  
“Hide now!” Cora shoved him away  
“Where?”  
“Under there!” She hissed pointing to the deep gap between a sideboard and the wall, she yanked a screen across to obscure him from view of the door too. He really didn’t have the time to argue about logistics of his size versus the place she was suggesting. It was deep and beside the curtained windows so he could shuffle back far enough out of sight and hope Kate would never know he was there. The door opened and Stiles heard Alison get to her feet and whisper a few words to Cora.

“Alison my dear, we’re leaving,” He heard Kate’s sickly sweet voice and he concentrated hard on not letting the shiver down his spine shake him too much or throw him into a panic.  
“Okay,” Alison replied and Stiles heard her place something down on the table. “Thank you for allowing me to read,”  
“The least I could offer since I couldn’t entertain you myself,” He heard Derek politely reply  
“I hope your mating is successful and long lived,” Stiles would have scoffed had he not been attempting discretion. He still shuffled forwards minutely and found he could see out to the open doorway through a gap between the panels of the screen. The group were stood there with all but Cora facing away from him.  
“Thank you I-,”  
“Did you see it,” Kate cut him off, and then clearing her voice, “Did you see the demon my dear?” Stiles cringed at her tone.  
“No, it just occurred to me that I hadn’t offered my congratulations on behalf of myself and my father,”  
“I appreciate it my lady,” Derek nodded and Stiles wondered if he could sense she was lying.  
“Should we be going then?” Alison asked. Stiles didn’t move until the door was shut behind them and he could no longer hear their voices down the corridor.


	7. A Storm with Something to Prove

Even after he could no longer hear the footsteps and voices retreating down the corridor Stiles was reluctant to step out of the room. He’d met quite enough people he’d rather not run into again for one day. Instead he considered sinking into one of the armchairs but found himself staring at the small bottle left on the table. The sound of someone returning down the hallway and the click of the handle had him snapped out of his daydream and once again diving for the cover of the embroidered screen. There he froze waiting for the person to see the room was empty and leave.  
“Stiles you can come out,” At the sound of Derek’s voice Stiles relaxed.  
“Did you get to talk to Cora?” Stiles asked as he tried to manoeuvre himself out of the hidey-hole he’d hastily squeezed himself into. It was a lot harder to get back out of this spot than it was to hide in it. He was just trying to dislodge his shoulder from where it was wedged between the dresser when Derek rounded into view above him.  
“No, they don’t like us interacting much but seeing her means that she is still alive and fighting,” Derek offered him a hand up. He winced as he straightened up and stretched out his arms and rolled his shoulders.  
“Yeah, the fighting part is definitely relevant,” He muttered, turning back to Derek. A raised eyebrow came in reply. “She explained a few things about werewolf bonds, and then Alison passed this on for you,” He scooped up the bottle from the table and held it out to Derek, “Morrell’s concoction to uh, block the bond,” He took it carefully from Stiles and considered it for a moment.  
“Thanks,”  
“Is Cora your only family?” Stiles asked nudging Derek as he crossed back to the table.  
“One of my uncles is alive somewhere though we rarely hear word of him, and I have Laura too; she’s my older sister. Lucky enough that she married before we ended up like this.” He rolled the bottle from one hand to the other. “She avoids Argent manipulation,” He shrugged and the ghost of a grateful smile flit over Derek’s features.  
“Is she anything like Cora?”  
“Less physically aggressive, but Cora’s had to grow up faster than all of us. Laura is warmer but with a sharp edge if you cross her,”  
“Are you close with them both?”  
“I was closer to Laura growing up, before I came to the Argents. They cut off nearly all contact with my family,”  
“Cora’s very protective of you,”  
“She knows I blame myself for what happened. That everything I do now is punishing myself”  
“Is it?” Derek didn’t reply but Stiles saw the way his shoulders sank a little, the way his breath caught and his eyes flicked down to the floor. Stiles didn’t need an answer for that one.

“So uh, Allison didn’t seem too bad,” Derek rolled his eyes and having clearly shaken off his melancholy fixed his stare on Stiles.  
“Erica wouldn’t have put you in here to keep you safe. You couldn’t stay put even for your own safety,”  
“It was not safe in that bedroom,”  
“No-one of Kate’s staff would have been up by the bedrooms,”  
“I don’t know who he was but he doesn’t like me. Big muscles, dark guy, hates my guts.” Derek huffed a laugh,  
“That might’ve been Boyd, He’s Erica’s second in command,”  
“I happen to know his sister,” At that Derek raised an eyebrow, “Not like intimately. His sister is a changeling. She’s part of my family back home,”  
“He doesn’t talk about his sister,”  
“Well he still draws her. Okay yes I looked through a sketch book but I was up there for ages I had to entertain myself somehow. Anyway this one sketch was a dead ringer for Alicia. I thought he’d be happy to know she was alive and well,”  
“He lost her a long time ago, doesn’t mean it’s a wound that’s healed,”

“I know," He added little above a whisper, “I lost my mum. That’s one of the worst things about me being here is that dad is on his own now,” Although Stiles’ voice got cleared he curled in on himself as he spoke his hands shifted frantically twisting and clenching, “He’s already lost her, and he’s thought he’d lost me before now as well and… it’s my fault he’s suffering y’know,” He took a shaky breath and then looked up to Derek who bore his own sad consoling smile.  
“What about the rest of your family?”  
“My dad is my only blood family, Fae families are pretty big though, but we can all feel each other. I’ve fallen off the grid so I’m as good as dead to them now,” a sharp stab of yearning cut through his chest when he thought of where he wanted to be right now.  
“I’m sorry,”  
“Tell me more about your family,” Stiles asked, cutting himself away from his own memories sharply to turn the conversation onto Derek.  
“I don’t like talking about them,” Derek said slowly  
“Yeah I figured, but I know you’re getting information from me for Gerard and it’s not like I can use any of this stuff against you,”  
“I don’t have to tell you anything,”  
“Neither do I,”  
“Then maybe we don’t talk about that,”  
“Are you suggesting another subject?” Stiles shoved himself up from the chair spun on his heel and dropped to sit on the table facing Derek.  
“How about we go back to you getting to know Alison Argent?.” Derek asked pointedly.  
“She seems nice. Less homicidal than her relatives,”  
“She’s only been let into the whole fairy tales are real secret for about a year or so. She doesn’t know the extent of the family secret yet I don’t think,”  
“She seems pretty relaxed about the whole idea. The sort I’d tell all my kind’s history and secrets without realising,” He joked but Derek’s face blanked to it’s default serious expression.  
“Never forget that she’s still an Argent. Smiles and pleasantries aside she’ll run a blade through you,” Derek was reaching out a hand to him and Stiles twisted out of reach before it could reach it’s mock-reassuring mark.  
“She could be different,”  
“And she could be worse. Stiles please don’t trust an Argent,”  
“Who am I supposed to trust?” He snapped  
“Yourself,” He said firmly and then after a moment a much quieter, “… Me,”  
“I’m stuck with you. Trusting you isn’t going to help or hinder me,”  
“We’re bonded. I won’t hurt you. I can’t,”  
“You take a potion so you don’t feel Derek. It’s not exactly the picture of trust and openness,”  
“It’s better for you if-,”  
“Just trust you on that shall I?”  
“Stiles,” His shoulders were slumped once again but he looked up to meet Stiles’ gaze.  
“I feel sorry for you Derek I do. If everything Cora said about the bond is true then I am so sorry. But this was forced on us. I don’t know you,” With a small nod and a sigh Derek turned his gaze away. Stiles continued regardless “I say Allison seems nice because she believed me when I said I wasn’t looking to hurt her and she didn’t hurt me. She stepped in when Cora was all claws and fangs and was near enough attacking me. Scott broke into her room and she hid him from the guards instead of skewering him like you seem to think she would,”  
“No matter what you think of her she’s an Argent. She’ll hold control over you whether you trust her with that or not,”  
“She’s not the only one,” He saw the split second as Derek raised his head to apologise or protest of defend himself and Stiles had already stood and was halfway out the door. As he pulls it shut behind him he sees Derek looking up in his direction but not following him. 

The damn werewolf wouldn’t exactly have a problems finding him no matter where he went but Stiles couldn’t help but want to put as much distance between them as possible in this house. He climbed two staircases walked the length of a corridor and at the very end was a huge great window overlooking the grounds. Just below it was a wooden sill, just wide enough for Stiles to sit precariously against the glass Clouds were thickening overhead as he looked out. Closest to the house were neat boxed flowerbeds and gardens and a few staff began to run for cover as rain began to splatter down upon them. Stiles raised a hand to the glass and felt it cold beneath his fingertips as the droplets pelted the other side. He rested his forehead against it and felt the faint vibrations of Mother Nature fighting her own battle to balance the elements. He took a few deep breaths and felt his own balance inside himself. It had been fragile and strained with nothing to stabilise it. No contact from his family, no wills and no solid nature beneath his feet or hands. The rain carried on falling and a deep rumble through the clouds reminded Stiles how little a true will could be stopped. He took several deep breaths and tried to find some solace.

A small cough broke his thoughts and he looked up to see a woman stood a few doors away. She was watching him warily.  
“I have dinner, if you eat that,” There was a sharp edge to her tone contrasting with the faint shake of her hands on the tray she carried and the fact that she stood near eight feet out of his reach.  
“Thank you,” He said, reaching out a hand so she could pass him the food tray. Still she hesitated to come any closer. Slowly she took a couple of steps towards him and as soon as he fingers touched the edge of the dish she let go. Stiles couldn’t possibly get a grip on it before it fell with a clatter to the floor. The woman yelled and jumped back. Stiles swung his legs down to pick it up and she turned tail, grabbed hold of her skirts and ran, disappearing down the corridor with a prayer under her breath. His eyes fell on the upturned plate and food thrown across the carpet. It didn’t look like anything he wanted to eat anyway. 

He’d just resettled himself when he heard heavier but steady footsteps heading for him. Resolutely he kept his eyes shut and head turned to the window. A sharp pain struck him across the back of his head.  
“Ow hey!” His eyes shot open and he found himself face to face with Erica as she leant back and folded her arms loosely over her chest.  
“What did you do to Berny?”  
“You say that like I know who that is,” Erica stepped to one side and looked pointedly down to the mess of food now staining its way into the carpet. “I’m pretty sure Berny is a name I can add to the ‘scared of or hates fae’ list,”  
“She said you attacked her,”  
“I didn’t have a grip on the plate she passed me and she was so skittish she dropped it and ran,” He waved a hand in the direction of the mess as he spoke.  
“Maybe you should work on your reflexes,”  
“Maybe you should work on your reflexes,” He mimicked. Erica shoved his feet out of the way so he was forced to sit with his back to the window and she sat herself in the gap next to him.  
“Okay kid I’m going to give you a run down of everything important in Derek’s life and you’re going to shut up and listen. Then you will never repeat this to anyone ever again,”  
“Firstly I’m older than you-,”  
“AH! You’re listening not questioning,”  
“My apologies,” Erica raised an eyebrow at his sweet sincerity before composing herself.  
“Derek’s poor tortured soul is both quite easily explained and a tricky masterpiece.”  
“You really want to set the scene huh,” He bumped his shoulder against hers and she shoved him back.  
“Are you telling this story?” Stiles held both hands up in surrender. “Well then. Derek comes from an age old family who until the last decade were wealthy and ruled over more country than any other family for miles. They were peaceful with few soldiers since anyone attacking the country would be attacking werewolves and everyone knows better than to start a war with werewolves. It’d be suicide but there were a group of druids who found a weapon that work. The Hales had allies of course but when they thought that the all great and powerful werewolves had a weakness they backed out of the picture. The Argents offered to lend their support in return for a guarantee to secure their new alliance. That guarantee was Derek,”  
“Woah hey, is that normal? Holding someone hostage for an alliance,”  
“You won’t attack someone who can hurt your kid,” Erica shrugged  
“He was just a kid? It’s barbaric,”  
“Says the creature who steals kids,”  
“We don’t steal kids,” Stiles insisted, “Changelings pass over on their own,”  
“Yeah whatever,” Waving off his comment “Back to torture in this reality, Kate effectively adopted Derek as her servant. Got Derek to spill all the secrets of his family, and security in his family’s lands and castle. Derek even told her when all his family would be gathered together in celebration. They were trapped in the castle, and every single one of them was murdered. The Argents, since they effectively owned Derek and he was too young to rule, took control of the land and within a year they’d declared all supernatural creatures dangerous,”

“You forgot the part where I fell in love and singlehandedly ruined the lives of everyone in the whole country,” They both jumped and looked up to see Derek crossing towards them “One of my sisters is imprisoned in her own home and the other is forced to serve as an Argent personal guard,” He added, “No wait, include anyone from other realms too,” He waved a hand in Stiles’ direction. Stiles shot a look back to Erica who’d ducked her head obviously scolded for talking out of turn again. He felt a curl of shame in his own gut but looked up again to Derek.  
“I was going to tell you,” Derek muttered as he leant on the wall on Stiles’ side of the window, “Erica gets a little impatient with me sometimes,”

“Its been a while since we had fresh blood, I’ve got to sharpen my teeth somewhere,” She whined up at him.  
“Just when I was starting to think you weren’t a crazy person,” He said leaning quickly away from her. She flicked out a claw inches from his face just as a thunderous crash of storm clouds and lightening lit up the sky behind them. Stiles lurched away from her further, his shoulder whacked into Derek’s leg.  
“Your timing is the worst,” He grumbled.  
“I beg to differ,” She smiled sweetly and hopped down herself.  
“You can apologise by making sure everything’s ready for tomorrow,” Derek told her and she nodded, shooting Stiles a deadly smile before slipping away.

“What’s happening tomorrow?” Stiles asked lean out of Derek’s space and back against the window  
“I have to leave for business tomorrow instead of in a few days from now,”  
“So I’ll have the run of the house?” He asked hopefully. A little exploring couldn’t do much harm. Besides all houses have their secrets  
“Erica’s still in charge,”  
“You realise I may not be in one piece when you get back,”  
“That’ll be your fault not hers,”  
“Sure it will,” He leant back head resting on the glass feeling the vibrations of the rain against the other side.  
“Do you want to get dinner? I take it that’s yours all over the floor,”  
“It is…but,” He listened to the rain for a moment, “I think I’d rather stay here a little while,”  
“Aren’t you cold by the window?” Derek asked cocking his head to one side and looking Stiles up and down, no doubt taking into account the way the hairs down his arms were stood all on end.  
“I like to hear it. Even if I can’t be out in it,”  
“You want to go out in this,” His scepticism of Stiles’ wishes evident in his tone.  
“It feels incredible,” Stiles told him plainly as he glanced out into the darkness of the thickening storm.  
“Okay, I think we can’t find a coat for you” Stiles eyes shot up but Derek had already turned away and was heading for the door. He opened it before glancing back “Are you coming then?”

Derek led him out through the kitchens, staff ducking out of their way as they passed. Stiles didn’t know who the action was for, himself or Derek. He didn’t look back to find out which it was they were inevitably gossiping about. The door to the garden was in an alcove out of sight of the main kitchen, Stiles nearly walked straight into Derek when he stopped in front of it and reached for the latch.  
“You can use this door while I’m away. Try not to let anyone see you,” He said quietly his head ducked so no one but Stiles who see or hear him, “And then head out into the main gardens, stay out of sight of the house as much as possible,”  
“Uh, okay?” he agreed as Derek passed him a heavy coat.  
“Almost everyone in this house believes you can’t leave the building. I, I couldn’t bear the thought of you being trapped, if anything happened,”  
“Thanks,” He felt the weight of the coat in his hands and found he was reluctant to put it on. Derek appeared to notice his hesitation.  
“Wear it until you’re out of sight of the house at least,”  
“I can do that,” Derek smiled in gratitude glanced past Stiles’ shoulder to the kitchens and then opened the door slowly and ushered Stiles through. 

Derek’s hands pulled the coat up around Stiles’ neck and shoulders as he pushed him out across the garden. He didn’t remove the hand on Stiles’ shoulder directing him through the rain until they were well out of sight of the house. Derek was scanning the area, even in his own home Stiles wondered what exactly Derek was on the lookout for.  
“So remind me what’s actually keeping me here?” He asked stepping closer to the flower beds to run his fingers through the stems as they swayed under his fingertips.  
“Nothing. But you’ll be safer under my protection and if you leave, the bond between us could become fatal should you return to your family,”  
“Right,”  
“Do you want me to stay here or walk with you?”  
“Are you going to come search me out if I don’t come back?” Derek shook his head slowly.  
“I hope you’d come back anyway,” Stiles shrugged as he shifted from foot to foot. “There’s a path through there that circles round through the orchard and a stream that runs through the property,” Derek nodded to a break in the hedgerow a few feet from them. Stiles was intrigued at the very least. Derek sat himself on a bench half hidden by the flowerbeds, his legs stretched out as though he were reclining in a n armchair inside or next to a fire  
“Huh,” Stiles glanced away to the supposed pathway and considered taking Derek’s advice; though now he was outside and feeling the elements around him he had little inclination to do anything but breathe it in.  
“Take your time, the rain won’t bother me,” Derek prompted when Stiles had been staring out blankly.  
“Really? It doesn’t bother you?” Stiles asked incredulously  
“No,” Derek said carefully,  
“Do you not feel it on your skin and through your hair? Feel the tension of the storm in the air you breathe and in your bones like electricity?”  
“It’s rain. It’s wet,” Stiles stared down at him unimpressed. Derek raised an eyebrow which incensed Stiles to his core.  
“A pond or a lake is wet,” He snapped, “They can submerge you in wet, but storms hit you like they’ve got something to prove,” He threw out his arms and shut his eyes as he leant his head back to feel the drops hitting his face. “Don’t you feel it?” He asked again quietly, “It’s incredible,” He sighed. His clothes were already soaked through and were clinging to him. He felt a chill run down his arms and across his abdomen and wrapped his arms back around himself for warmth. He toed off his shoes and stepped out onto the grass stretching his toes to feel the grass and earth between them. 

When he glanced over Derek too had his head tipped back against the rain. He wasn’t smiling but there was a certain serenity in his appearance. Stiles snapped a flower from its stem and stepped lightly on his toes over to slip it into Derek’s hair.  
“You do feel it, don’t you?” Derek opened his eyes slightly, squinting he looked up at Stiles.  
“Laura and I used to lie out in the rain for hours,” He admitted, “Even before my werewolf abilities had developed and I could catch the worst chills. We’d sit down at the base of a tree and when I started to shiver she’d hug me so tightly it hurt and tell me it was for my own good. I’d left before Cora was allowed out with us,” Derek’s gaze dipped down. Stiles caught Derek’s chin, his fingertips grazing his jaw until Derek’s eyes flicked up to meet Stiles’. He pulled his hand back suddenly unsure of himself.  
“What do you feel out here?” He asked, an edge of tenseness in his tone.  
“Just the rain Stiles,” Derek dipped his head and ran his fingers through his hair dislodging the flower. They both watched it fall to the ground, “And why don’t you have your shoes on?”  
“It feels nicer,”  
“You’ll make a mess when we go back inside,” Derek scolded lightly, which made Stiles think there was more chance of Erica or someone else having a problem with a few muddy footprints than Derek cared for them  
“Maybe I’ll stay out here all night,” He danced out round in circles away from Derek across the grass.  
“You’re a fae not a fish. And you’ll slip if you keep going in circles on this mud,”  
“I’ve been dancing since before I can remember,” He called out  
“If you fall over much you’ve probably knocked yourself silly,” Derek drawled.  
“I don’t fall-,” His footing slid from under him and the next thing he knew, the wind was knocked out of him, “-Ow!” He groaned, “Don’t say it!”  
“I wasn’t going to,” Derek hummed and Stiles tried to ignore the thumping in his head.  
“Maybe I’ll just lie here instead,”  
“You’ll get a chill,”  
“Mmm,” He could feel the mud in his hair and flexed his fingers digging his nails into the ground until it hurt He took a sharp breath and for a moment he felt everything. Including someone looking down at him. He opened his eyes to see Derek looming over him frowning. “I could teach you a thing or two y’know,”  
“I’m sure,” He grumbled and offered Stiles a hand up. “You’re not actually hurt are you?” He asked when he saw the wince as Stiles pulled himself up.  
“Nothing I won’t forget in the count of ten,”  
“Count of ten?”  
“Fae healing is exceptional,”  
“How long exactly is a count of ten?”  
“Uh, it should maybe be up by now,” Stiles cocked his head to one side and felt the stab of pain from his shoulder up his neck. “I hate you, the wills hate you, the weather hates you…Oh wow what is that?” Derek’s hand rested across his neck and a wave of calm replacing the aches.  
“Werewolves have pretty good healing too,”  
“Yeah, no I don’t hate you right now,”  
“Should we get you back inside and cleaned up?” He was already nudging Stiles back the way they’d come, coat draped over his arm until just before they turned the corner towards the house at which point he threw it over Stiles’ shoulders. Stiles hesitated at the door looking back out across the gardens. Derek’s hand paused on the door handle waiting for him. “You can come out here when I’m in town; provided you try not to injure yourself,”  
Derek nudged Stiles over and lowered himself to the stone steps, the very highest one was still dry though it didn’t matter much to the state of their clothes. Stiles dropped down beside him and tucked himself into the corner looking at Derek side on.  
“Hey are you sure Erica wouldn’t mind taking my pain? Or whoever else on your staff is a werewolf,”  
“Erica will let you suffer, so will Boyd. If you run into Isaac he might take pity on you,” Derek shrugged.  
“Ah so there is hope in your staff. How many of them know you’re a werewolf?”  
“All of them,”  
“And they’re okay with it?”  
“I employ them.”  
“And they think I should be in a dungeon cell,”  
“You scare them. Give them a day or two, they’ll see you for the idiot you are,” Derek smirked.  
“Or I’ll end up skewered,”  
“Erica wouldn’t dare,” Stiles rolled his eyes and pulled a face.  
“Are you really okay with Erica telling me about, you know, your history. I mean I’m glad to know it, and I know it’s probably not the whole picture but it’s still your story really and-,”  
“I barely know you,” He paused and Stiles determinedly looked out into the rain instead of glancing up to him, “But I’m okay with you knowing. There are other parts of the story of course. You can ask,”  
“Thanks, but I’m good,”  
Stiles’ foot dropped down a step to nudge Derek’s and though they both stared out watching the rain together Stiles’ felt some part of his inner warmth and balance restored; if only temporarily. Stiles wondered if maybe his dad could still feel a glimmer of their connection.


	8. Side Effects Include..

The rain continued for three days after Derek left and Stiles could feel Erica’s glare boring into the back of his head nearly every time his gaze was drawn longingly to a window. She’d been watching him like a hawk, appearing whenever he was tempted to move around the house from the moment he left his room in the morning until his door shut on his room after it had long gone dark. Never the less she and Boyd still patrolled the borders of the property a couple of times a day which gave Stiles a hour each time to get a better feel for his new environment.

His endeavours to explore the house were often hindered if he came across anyone already occupying the room. Most staff gave him a wary look and a wide berth and Stiles could do little to bring himself to care for their mistrust. That was apart from the head of the kitchen; a tiny woman with a big mouth and thick accent who spat on the floor and cursed him out whenever he attempted to pilfer something from her pantry. Stiles was genuinely scared of the woman who would appear out of nowhere with projectiles or a heavy wooden spoon.

He’d tried reasoning with her but until he had both feet outside of the kitchen door he wasn’t really able to get a word in edgewise. With both feet solidly on the other side of the door frame she stared up at him, spoon head high and a sour pout and glare, daring Stiles to take one step forwards.  
“What do you think I’m going to do!”  
“Good food in my kitchen. No poison fae magic coming anywhere near my cooking!” She waved her spoon in his direction and he dodged back out of reach.  
“I’m not going to poison your cooking. I need to eat,”  
“You eat what I send you,”  
“It’s all brown. Or meat and I don’t eat that,”  
“You think you can talk your words and sneak your way into my kitchen and kill us all in our sleep,”  
“No!”  
“Exactly. No. No Fae in my kitchen,”  
“Can I at least have an apple? Or some vegetable soup?” He asked hopefully. The woman huffed derogatively without backing down.  
“You stay out of my kitchen if I give you beggar’s food,”  
“Yes, I am a beggar, a scrounger. Keep the expensive meat and desserts to yourself,” she took a step back watching him carefully.  
“You are a strange creature,” She turned on the spot and shuffled her skirts back to the pantry she’d just chased him from.  
“You should hear what my dad calls me,” He muttered rolling his eyes and glancing back down the corridor behind him. The kitchen had cleared shortly after he’d entered as per usual. Clearly none of them had stuck around nearby. He yelped when something heavy hit him sharply on the back of his head and clattered to the floor.  
“Boys should not talk disrespectfully of their fathers,”  
“If I ever see him again I’ll apologise,” He nodded with a grimace. The woman tutted as she crossed back to him.  
“He knows,” She said assuredly, “Parents always know,” She reached out pushing a canvas bag into his hands, “Get out of my kitchen before you turn the milk,” She shoved him back and promptly shut the door in his face.  
“Why would my being here turn the milk? I drink milk!” His reply was futile but he the woman’s attitude was beginning to soften to him.

Stiles takes his hoard and goes wandering. The corridors are almost familiar to him now and a list of questions grew with each odd eccentricity he found about the house. There was a painting up on the second floor that he’d returned to several times. A family portrait with a great castle in the background that Stiles suspected was Derek’s former home.  
“You’ve been scaring the kitchen staff again haven’t you,” Stiles jumped  
“How can I scare them if I never see them for more than the count of ten? And besides that woman scares me. The short one with the spitting and the spoon,”  
“Veronica, She’s Berny’s sister,” Stiles tried to recall which woman was Berny, “Bernadette, the one who dropped you dinner all over the first floor landing,”  
“Uh huh,” He nodded, vaguely recalling what the woman looked like, “Veronica’s scarier, and still actually gives me food,” He waved the bag in his hand.  
“Give me some!” she grabbed for it and Stiles only narrowly danced back out of her reach.  
“She likes you! Go get your own,”  
“That means walking to the kitchen. You’re here,”  
“What if I’ve cursed it all with fae magic,” Stiles asked, keeping the bag behind him. Erica snorted at the suggestion,  
“One word from me and you won’t get any more food from anyone,”  
“Wow, you’re just endearing yourself to me one sentence at a time,”  
“I’m a charming person,” Stiles huffed out a sarcastic laugh and offered her the open bag

“So how come you can always find me? Is it just the werewolf thing?” He asked reaching into the bag to claim his own snack.  
“You heartbeat is way faster than anyone else’s in the house,” She said before shoving the whole pastry into her mouth and swallowing it whole, “Plus if you’re around someone else their heartbeat is much faster,”  
“That can be a sign of infatuation,” Stiles pointed out, waving a hand at her before thinking better of it a moment too late as Erica snagged the food from his fingers.  
“Your fae magic is shit if that’s the best you can do,”  
“They could all be denying their carnal feelings for me,”  
“Ugh, get out of my sight,”  
“Yes ma’am,”  
“And no more racing up and down the halls! You’re not a child,” She called back to him. Stiles smirked and landed a little more heavy footed. 

 

One thing he had learnt from exploring the house was that there was more than one doorway he could get through without seemingly raising any alarm. One narrow passageway looped round from the room next to the library to a doorway mostly hidden by old conifers. Stiles figured he had a far less chance of being seen using that exit rather than the kitchen so had come to frequenting it. It especially helped when Erica had tracked him down to the library and then become bored with the whole concept of reading. 

Stiles wondered if she could hear his heartbeat from out in the gardens or whether rooms like the library dulled the beat enough that she only had a vague idea of where he might be. Either way she hadn’t tracked him down whenever he took a walk around outside and complete with his bag of food he headed down the now familiar route.  
He had explored the pathway Derek had suggested to him and followed it to the stream and several larger rocks he made himself comfortable on.

If he concentrated he thought he could almost feel the vibrations of the earth and stones beneath his feet; a steady rumble that harmonised with the growl of the earth beneath it and the rush of the stream beside it.

The growl got louder. Stiles’ eyes flew open focussing on the noise a man stood behind him, eyes glowing yellow and already covered in blood and bruises. Stiles jumped to his feet watching him cautiously, wondering if in this body he could outrun a werewolf. The man took a step forwards and his knee gave out from under him. He curled in on himself shaking and clutching his side. Stiles still considered the distance from here to the house. Would anyone truly hold him responsible from a dead werewolf on the grounds? Probably yes. Still the guy could die either way. 

Slowly Stiles stepped towards him, rounding wide so he could be seen approaching. The faint growling increased interspersed with weak whines.  
“Easy, I’m not gonna hurt you,”  
“Don’t…smell…human,”  
“I’m a fae, born and bred. Can I take a look?” He kept his hands in view and his palms open in caution.  
“I can heal, I don’t need you,”  
“Maybe I can make things go a little faster,”  
“What’ll- what’ll you do,”  
“Find some herbs and bark that can purify and heal, You look like you could use them,”  
“’m fine,” The guy winced and clutched at his side.  
“Yes, of course you do,” Stiles rolled his eyes, “ Can I at least just have a look, clean them a little bit, It really doesn’t look pretty from here,”  
“No magic,”  
“Not a spell,” Stiles promised ducking back over to the sack of food and emptying it out. As he stepped down by the stream he grabbed at some of the low growing plants across the surface. He crushed them and pushed them to the bottom of the bag. Soaking the canvas gave him something to wipe the blood away with. He circled wide again stepped forwards as the man watched him dubiously. He knelt down beside him and began wiping the blood first from his arms and shoulders where the fabric of his shirt was ripped and slashed.  
“What from hell did this to you?”  
“Doesn’t matter,”  
“Are you going to run into it again?”  
“Why would you care?”  
“I get blamed when the milk turns sour. I’d also get blamed if you wound up dead on the property,” The man snorted and the winced again clutching his side. “What’s your name anyway?”  
“Yours first demon,” The guy snapped, managing to forgo his agony for a moment to glare.  
“I’m Stiles. And Fae are just as much demons as werewolves,”  
“Werewolves can’t do magic or curse people,”  
“No, but they can change into freaking wolves. Don’t you think there’s a bit of something weird in you?”  
“It’s natural,”  
“So is Fae magic. Come on what’s your name wolf boy,”  
“Isaac,”  
“Oh the grounds-keeper! Derek mentioned you. I would have definitely been blamed if you keeled over, but I think you’re going to make it,” He ran his fingers along the now clear skin of one shoulder. “Roll onto your back, that side looks pretty bad,”  
“You’re using magic I know you are,” For someone objecting so much he seemed reluctantly glad at this point and Stiles couldn’t help but roll his eyes.  
“Slander! It’s a natural healing enhancer, works wonders for super-naturals like yourself,” He pulled out the now mashed scrunched leaves from the bag, “Can I get that gash on your forehead?” Isaac still looked wary but nodded slowly.  
Stiles shuffled forwards, running his fingers slightly into Isaac’s hair to see the extent of the gash more clearly. He pressed the leaves to the open wound and Isaac winced.  
“Side effects include fever, delirium, loss of limbs and possession,” Isaac’s expression dropped his eyes wide, “Oh and gullible tendencies,” Stiles rolled back on his heels smirking as the man scowled up at him.  
“I could rip you to pieces with my claws,”  
“Where’s the fun in that?” He called back as he collected fresh leaves and mashed them in his fist. “If you wanted to threaten me, I’d have to have something to lose,” He knelt back down pressing the dampened leaves to the exposed cut at Isaac’s side without warning. He howled and Stiles jumped back as sharp claws dug into the earth.  
“Hey, just hold still okay, is there something else in that one?”  
“Glass, got hit with glass,”  
“Guess I should have pulled that out first. But hey why didn’t you?”  
“It’s too far back. Can’t reach it. Was just going to wait for the healing to push it out,”  
“That would be excruciating,”  
“So is you pushing it deeper,” Isaac snapped his eyes flashing yellow and Stiles tried to remember why he was bothering at all.  
“Well how about I pull it out?”  
“Only if you’re quick,”  
“You need something to dig your claws into try and avoid the face yeah? It’s my redeeming feature,”  
“Who told you that?”  
“Ass,” He carefully pulled the wound open and the bleeding which had previously slowed trailed out and into the ground beneath them. With nimble fingers he pressed deeper until he saw Isaac wince and as soon as he caught the feel of a shard of glass he began working it out from under the skin.  
“Almost got it, hold tight,” with a slick squelch the palm size shard exited the wound. Stiles dropped it to one side and held the wound closed as Isaac’s natural healing sealed the gap.  
“Never do that again,” Isaac had his eyes shut tight and was breathing shallowly but he was alive and healing better than when he’d first emerged in the clearing. “Thanks though,”  
“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Stiles shuffled back until his back hit a tree and he too shut his eyes for a moment. Minutes passed and a scatter of rain began to filter down through the trees. He sighed as he felt it run through his hair and begin to soak into his clothes. Erica would be sure to know he’d been outside but he couldn’t bring himself to head back inside just yet.  
“If you’re the fae from the manor house aren’t you supposed to be under lock and key?” Stiles opened one eye to see Isaac sitting up and staring at him curiously.  
“Something like that,” He shut his eyes again trusting the Isaac wasn’t really of the temperament to hurt him.  
“Do you escape often?” He asked curiously  
“If by escape you mean come out into the gardens, then yeah sometimes. I’ve got no-where to go, I’m not running away just yet,”  
“Here’s as safe a place as any,”  
“I wouldn’t say that,”  
“It is for me,” Stiles opened his eyes and frowned.  
“Did I just imagine the embedded glass, gashes the span of my hand... Oh no I can still see the pool of blood on the ground,”  
“Could have been worse,”  
“It could have been better. It could have never happened, however it did...”  
“Don’t know much about round here do you?” Isaac cut him off as he stood and shuffled towards the stream to wash off the remaining blood and dirt from his hands and a little from his clothes.  
“What would give you that impression?”  
“Gerard owns all the lands for miles and miles. Any non human that’s found not under the protection of another lord or in a workhouse is imprisoned and never heard from again. We’re lucky. If you’re on Hale lands you’re still pretty safe from the Argents,” Isaac shrugged and Stiles noted a thin scar that trailed down his neck and under his shirt line.  
“Doesn’t feel like it,” He said, a sardonic smirk pulling at his lips.  
“You haven’t been experimented on yet, or chased down for sport,”  
“No, I’ve been forcibly bonded and stripped of my family, free will and power. That may be acceptable in your world but we don’t grow up believing anything close to that,”  
“You’ll get used to it. Life isn’t fair,”  
“It doesn’t have to be fair if you’re free to choose and deal with consequences,”  
“Guess these are just our consequences then,”  
“Yeah, but they’re still crap,” He huffed picking at a loose thread on his shirt cuff.

“You want me to walk you back to the manor?” Isaac asked. Stiles looked up in the direction of the house considering and then shook his head.  
“I stand less chance of being noticed if I’m on my own,”  
“Okay, I need to head up there anyway to get some dinner. More food, faster healing y’know,”  
“I’ll see you around Isaac,”  
“Don’t curdle the milk,” As Isaac disappeared into the trees still with a pronounced limp Stiles sighed and pushed himself to his feet. Slowly he went about picking up his scattered food and replaced it into the still damp sack. 

 

Once again by the time he reached the house his feet were layered in mud and his clothes drenched and clinging too him. He stayed out of sight as he ducked up stairs to his room and was grateful for the fire lit in his room even if it was only burning embers not flames. He removed his outer shirt and trousers but could do little for his undergarments if he still wanted to maintain some decency for when Erica inevitably barged in to inflict her company on him. 

Stiles huddled up next to the fire and tried to separate the remaining food that after being carried in a damp canvas sack had glued several bread rolls together. Never the less he laid out his spoils including the sack beside the fire to dry out. 

It was some time later by the time Erica arrived and bone deep shivers had begun to wreck Stiles’ body. She threw the door open carrying in a tray of dinner announcing her presence and setting the food down at Stiles’ side. The smell of it turned Stiles’ stomach.

“What’s the matter with you?” Erica asked sharply when he pushed the tray to one side and turned away.  
“The cook poisoned me,” He moaned.  
“No she didn’t,” Erica leant down and pressed a hand to his forehead. Stiles leant back but she then moved her hand to the back of his neck. “You’re soaking wet, shivering and smell of illness. How fast has this come on?”  
“Few hours,” He shrugged and leant closer to the fire as she stoked it.  
“Even a flu doesn’t come on that quickly,”  
“Fae illness lasts a day at most, come and goes quickly. I can just sleep it off,”  
“Well if you wouldn’t spend hours outside with no more than your over shirt on then you might have missed getting a chill all together,” Stiles looked up pitifully at her but didn’t bother to ask how she knew where he’d been, “Yes I’m pretty and clever,”  
“Who’d’ve thought?” he smirked and she thumped him in the arm.  
“You need to stay warm don’t you,” She stood back up and crossed to the bed and pulled the covers off in one movement.  
“Probably, medicine was never my strong point, the Wills usually keep me in good health,”  
“Guess you’re going to have to make do with my intuition,” She dumped the sheets over he back and then headed out of the door.  
“I’m dead already,” He bemoaned to himself.  
“Shut up!” Her voice carried from the corridor and Stiles vaguely heard a second set of footsteps leave as Erica re-entered the room.

“I’m staying in here tonight to make sure you don’t die in your sleep, So will Boyd so you don’t get any ideas,”  
“Can’t you get Isaac, I like him,” He said pulling the sheets up over his head like a cocoon. And leaning into the side of the stone hearth as close as he dare get without setting the bedding alight on the fire.  
“You should never have met Isaac,” She said as she dropped down cross legged opposite him and began helping herself to his tray of food.  
“And I should have never have been outside, yeah I get it,”  
“I hope you get it. Can you imagine how much crap I’d be under if Derek comes home and finds you half dead or worse,”  
“You should hear Jackson, he’s been saying for years I’m not mate material,”  
“That remains to be seen,”  
“Hey won’t you get ill if you guys stay here with me,”  
“We don’t get ill,”  
“Never?”  
“Ill no, poisoned occasionally, maimed fairly often,” She shrugged, “It’s okay so long as your pack has your back,”  
“You say that like they haven’t always,”  
“Derek has developed a habit of adopting in people who have nowhere else to go. Me included. Hey, if you ever make it out to the lake you can meet the kelpies, their last home quite literally dried up. Derek got them out of there before Gerard ever knew what he’d uncovered,” Erica was looking at the fire but Stiles noted the subtle smile reveal itself.  
“If this place is basically a hub for things Gerard is hunting down, how come most of the staff still treat new things like pariahs?”  
“Ingrained believe that new and different, is wrong and dangerous,” She shrugged, “You could be dangerous to us for all we know,”  
“Yeah well a bit of lore that’s escaped you is that Fae don’t hurt people until they’ve been hurt first, and then its only self defence. Changeling Fae have a little more aggression in them but usually only when they’re scared,”  
“I’ll have to try harder if I want you to fight back then?”  
“I have nothing to lose, fighting or not fighting back, doesn’t mean much right now. If the bond is going to be fatal if I go home that’s not an option cause I’ll be going back only to die in my dad’s arms, he doesn’t need that, plus I might not even get the right jump from here since I don’t know where here is. I could end up miles from home or in the middle of an ocean or something, so, still no good,”  
“Gerard could really use some of that information,” Stiles startled as Boyd spoke. His mouth shut tight as he watched Boyd cross to behind Erica and throw down a pile of bedding in a heap just behind her.  
“He means watch who you’re speaking around,” Her eyes to Boyd and they shared a silent conversation of glares and sighs, “You can trust us,” She said turning back to him, “but we may have people on the staff would would give away information for a few extra coins. Argent spies on everyone, kin and foe,”  
“I mean keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you,” Boyd added shifting his glare back onto Stiles momentarily before kneeling down to shuffle the sheets into some semblance of order.

“I’ve got work needs doing early tomorrow, I need sleep and so does it if its ill,” He muttered to Erica who leant back into him as he spoke.  
“Early night, got it,” Erica nodded.  
“And we need to talk about Isaac,”  
“Tomorrow,” She leant back up to give Boyd more room and raised her eyebrows expectantly. “You heard the man, if you’re not eating your supper you get in that bed and sleep til you’re healed, yes?” Stiles groaned but complied. 

He rearranged the blankets over him to give himself some room to stand up and then slowly pushed himself to his feet. His stomach lurched and a light headedness took him over so fast he wobbled on his feet and had to catch himself on the hearth. He swore under his breath in his native tongue and in seconds Boyd was nearly on top of him, a hand across his mouth.  
“What did you just say? I swear if you’re doing magic here demon I’ll-” Stiles waved his hands and futilely tried to push him off.  
“I wasn’t, it wasn’t magic,” Stiles gasped when he removed his hand to allow an answer, “It’s like when you hurt yourself and you say a powerful word in anguish because it makes you feel better,”  
“What powerful word?” He snapped.  
“I don’t know ow or crap or something. Fae just have different words because we have older languages,” Boyd glanced to Erica who was still sat a few steps away but watching their every move. She smirked and raised a shoulder in a half shrug and Boyd dropped his grip on Stiles entirely.  
“I don’t know why I listen to you,” He grumbled to Erica as he lay down on the crumpled bedding behind her. Stiles went about gathering up his own bedding despite his head feeling heavier each time he bent down to pick up another handful of sheets. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Erica reach a hand out behind her as she stoked the fire for the night, holding Boyd’s arm for a moment and then releasing it.

Eventually Stiles climbed onto the bed, rolled himself up into the bedding like a cocoon and shut his eyes in an attempt to sleep off some of the ill effects plaguing him. Just as his breathing settled and he was about to go to sleep he heard the other two in a muffled conversation.  
“G’night,” He muttered to himself more than anyone and their conversation soon fell off without a reply.


	9. Charming is my Second Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Derek away Kate drops by for another visit and for Stiles Staying out of her way isn't an option.
> 
> Trigger Warnings: Violence, Torture. Skin mutilation. 
> 
> It made my stomach turn when I started writing it so you have been warned.

“Are you getting up today?” Stiles blearily opened his eyes at the sound of Erica’s voice and immediately squinted as she threw the curtains open wide. He buried himself under the covers pulling them tightly about him as he shivered. His bones and his head ached and he curled himself into a tighter ball.  
“You won’t get breakfast until you get up,” Erica poked him in the back and Stiles groaned.  
“Am I causing you a problem?” He peered out of his blanket nest and saw her eye him carefully.  
“Not at the moment,” She shrugged.  
“Then go away,” He groaned as he felt her bounce on the side of the bed.  
“Are you still ill?” He expected her to try and pry the covers from him but no attack came. The smell of food filtered through to him and his stomach felt like it cringed and rolled at the prospect.  
“Maybe,”  
“Are you contagious?”  
“You don’t get ill,”  
“But the staff might, they don’t need demon plagues,” He felt another prod in his side.  
“You’re not funny,” He groaned, one arm waving haphazardly over the covers to bat her away. The action only served to raise his hairs along his arm in the cold.  
“You’re ill, you know nothing,”  
“Leave me alone,” He groaned and pulled the covers back over his head.  
“Fine, I have work to do but I’ll be back when I can. If you think you’re going to die call for someone,”

He heard the door shut with a thump and vaguely heard footsteps heading down the hall. He shut his eyes and tried to wish his aches away.  
He felt himself doze in and out of consciousness but couldn’t find the energy to overcome his headache to move from beneath the covers. His nose was full of mucus and his throat was dry and coarse. He rolled over to face the door and wondered if he could make it out the door and to the library where the fire would be a blessed comfort. Between one long blink and the next, Stiles heard his name called.  
“What?”  
The faint voice called again and Stiles pulled the covers from around his head and glanced around the room. He couldn’t see anyone and the door was still shut tight.  
“Great Stiles you’re going mad now too. You had everything to live for and now you’re shivering from a chill and hearing voices. Mother nature hates you,”

“Come on little demon out you come,” His eyes shot open at the voice. Kate Argent. In the hallways and searching for him if his hearing was to be believed.  
“Please let this be a delusion, It’s not real it’s not real,” He muttered into the pillow until he heard a scream that could only have come from Erica. With a concentrated effort he gathered his bedclothes up together and threw them away out of his way.  
He carefully moved across the room and pressed his ear against the door. He cringed as he heard a loud slap and Kate’s nauseating voice.  
“If you don’t bring me the demon, I’ll have you transferred to my staff. I can assure you girl it won’t be the cushy lifestyle you’re used to. Loyalties are not as honourable as you think,”  
Stiles heard Erica yelp and a muffled gasp from someone nearby. He heard Kate tut.  
“Uh-uh, i don’t think so,”

Stiles couldn’t listen to it any longer and threw open the door. He took three steps into the middle of the corridor before looking up and facing Kate who had Erica held against the wall. Kate had a knife in her hand only just visible where it was plunged into Erica’s stomach. Erica’s eyes were aglow and staring down the corridor towards Stiles, her nails extended into the plaster but she wasn’t fighting back. Erica was slowly shaking her head and silently mouthing something to Stiles that was either no or run repeated over and over.

“You want me, you got me. Leave her alone,”  
“Ah, does the demon have a conscience?”  
“More than you do,” Kate yanked the knife from Erica and Erica fell to her knees. Kate kicked Erica out of her way as she stepped over her. As Kate and her close guard moved towards Stiles, Boyd stepped from behind them, escorted by a force of two guards with their swords held in readiness. Boyd dropped to Erica’s side and slowly helped her to her feet. His own left arm looked limp at his side as he helped Erica with the other.

 

Kate closed in on Stiles and he kept his eyes on her, standing his ground as two guards circled behind him.  
“First things first,” Without warning her blade shot out and cut him across the arm, “You bleed well too. Well done,”  
“Speciality of mine,” He sneered, clutching his hand across the cut. If his healing was at it’s best he’d need to remember a few more human healing tricks. His head already throbbed but he concentrated on the way Kate was holding herself adn where she was likley to strike out from.  
.  
“I guess we’ll have to take advantage of of it if it’s a speciality,” Her knife darted out again and Stiles jumped back out of it’s way. Kate smirked, “You learn fast, good,”

“What do you want?”

“Someone to play a little game with, I’ve been ever so bored these last few days, well no, just this morning in fact. And then I remembered that I haven’t really had a chance to take advantage of of you,” She took a step to his right and he took another in the opposite direction. Just like a dance he kept just out of her reach. Just enough time to avoid if she decided to strike.

“Pity, but you know I hear patience is Godly,” He smiled as sweetly as he could manage and in his periphery saw another set of soldiers close in on the other end of the corridor.

“And which book was that in? Another you’ve stolen from our library?” She asked, her head cocked to one side.

“Didn’t think you were appreciating them,” Stiles shrugged and as he stepped back as Kate encroached forwards and rough shove from behind kept him within her reach. “Then again illiteracy is a hard family curse to beat,”

“Stiles!” Erica called out to him down the hall and Kate shot her a glare and with a slicing wave the guards stood beside them moved to tie a gag around their mouths. Stiles shook his head and tore his gaze away from them and back to Kate.

“Talking of families,” She started, “You’ve met my father, I’d love to meet your little hoard of demons,”  
“Sorry, you’re out of luck. No fae magic means no connection to other fae. Can’t help you,” He said bluntly. Kate huffed and twisted the knife around her fingers before pointing it directly towards his chest. 

“That seems so final. I’m merely curious what makes a demon tick,” Stiles felt an up-tick in his breathing and heart rate.  
“Depends on the demon, us fae are all nature and her wills,”  
“And other demons? Anything interesting I could get to know better? I do love a good chase,” Stiles eyes darted over to his right where Boyd and Erica could do little more than watch on. 

“What you want to catch them is a chimera, powerful creatures are chimeras, fast, hate to be chased but make for good excitement,”  
“They’re a myth,” Kate said, unimpressed.  
“But a myth you’ve heard of right? Gives it more credit, right?”  
“You want to send my chasing my tail,” She glared down at him and waved her knife ever closer

“No, That would be an ouroborus,” He smiled at the thought of a giant snake eating Kate whole.  
“Cocky little demon aren’t you,”  
“Only when I’m being threatened,” He knew he was trapped. To keep Kate talking was the only thing that kept her relatively safe. She could either torture Stiles, or torture Erica and Boyd, if he could Stiles would give her ever reason to stay focussed on him.

“Threatened? I’m not threatening you Stiles,” Stiles raised an eyebrow and Kate smiled, “We’re just having a bit of fun,” She cooed.  
“I wonder how I ever mistook the two,” He waved his fingers over the cut on his arm, “ Nice love bite there,” He glared up at her

“Ah yes, Derek will be jealous won’t he. Can get awfully jealous that boy. Viciously so,” Without warning Kate slapped him across the face so hard he went down, his hands barely coming up in time to catch him. Her boot caught his shoulder and as he rolled to lessen the impact it pressed down on his throat “I don’t suppose you’ve been in contact with any of your other little demon friends have you?”

“Wouldn’t know how,” He gasped.

“But I’m sure there is a way and you made sure to convince my father you’d have all the answers since you’re still alive and not currently cut up in an apothecary somewhere. I guess you just need to think a little harder,” She pressed down hard momentarily and then pulled back and Stiles rolled onto his stomach heaving to catch his breath. “What do you think demon? Do you need to be incentivised?”

“Nope, i’m good,” He pushed himself up so he could sit leaning against the wall, “ ‘m as incentivised as they come. There’s no way to contact other fae without having a connection to the faes or magic. Magic which I haven’t been able to use since you bonded me with that potion. Unless they’re right in front of you. Which yes, you’re communicating with me right now, well done,” Kate twirled the knife in her hand and raised an eyebrow. She leaned in and Stiles panicked leaning away from the blade as far as he could

“I swear I don’t know how to. I’ve never had to without my fae magic. I would have done it already if I thought I could,”

“Do you want to know something,” Kate leaned in close and her voice dropped to a whisper, “I don’t believe you, and I’m just getting started,” She straightened and backed away from him circling round to the opposite side of the corridor and running her knife along through the wall leaving a crumbling line in her wake.

“You know I think I’ve missed the horses here. Shall we take a ride demon?”  
“Can’t leave the house, sorry,” He shrugged and offered her his sweetest smile.  
“That’s hardly a problem,” she turned to her guards and motioned the closest over. “Bring a horse in here,”  
“Yes ma’am,” Two guards nodded and left. The remaining guards were still too many for the odds being on Stiles’ side. 

“Well demon, you have maybe five minutes to come up with something I might like to hear. Think fast,” She stepped away to talked in hushed voices to her guards and Stiles pushed himself up against the wall to keep himself from throwing up.

 

Stiles took more than a minute to simply catch his breath and take stock of where hurt. He glanced over to Erica and Boyd who were stood facing the wall as instructed had their head bowed towards each other. Boyd looked up at their guards and then over to him but Stiles couldn’t read anything from his expression. 

Stiles looked up to his own guards and Kate who was leering at him from the opposite wall. He tightened his fingers around the cut on his arm and convinced himself that the bleeding would stop by the time he had to move again. His stomach and ribs felt heavily bruised and his neck still felt constricted where her foot had cut off his air supply. 

Everyone’s eyes shot up when a single guard returned. He looked sheepish and barely looked up from the floor for a moment. He didn’t step any closer than a few feet from Kate when he glanced up briefly and cleared his throat. Kate stood to meet him like a predator catching the scent of fear and injury.

“Uh Ma’am, all the horse are gone from the stables” He said, his eyes trained to the floor.  
“What?” She snapped stepping close so he had no choice but to look up at her.  
“They’re all gone ma’am, they must have been let out,” His fists were clenched at his sides.  
“And our own?” She asked slowly.  
“They wouldn’t set a foot closer to the house ma’am. They’re not bred to be used to the scents of...” His eyes darted to Stiles but the words supernatural, demon or werewolf never came  
“And you can’t convince them,” She asked with an edge in her voice that made Stiles wonder how this guard would pay. Stiles then decided he didn’t care.  
“I,-” Kate waved a hand and the man soon went silent. 

“How disappointing,” She turned to face the betas and though Stiles couldn’t see her face he could picture the twisted glare as she thought up her next method of entertainment.

“Maybe you should just write Derek a letter,” He suggested and graced her with a half smile when she turned back to him, “We’ll be sure to pass along a message that you dropped by,”

“You know you might be right.” She snapped her fingers in the guard’s direction and smirk growing, “Since you can’t fetch a horse can you at least fetch a pen?”  
“Yes ma’am,”  
“Turn around demon, remove you’re shirt,” She said looking back to Stiles.  
“You know my back isn’t my best feature,” He hunched his shoulders and leant away as she approached.  
“I’m sure I can improve the look of it,” She flicked two fingers towards a pair of guards to Stiles. “Boys hold him down. Nice and steady for me,”

The pen was sharp and Kate made sure it cut deeply with each letter. The ink stung and Stiles could do little more than bite his lip and try desperately not to call out. Kate was monologuing and Stiles tried to instead focus on breathing and staying a steady as he could. He’d realised pretty quickly if he strained when the pain cut through him Kate would only press harder.

“What do you think of my prose? Do you think Derek will appreciate it?” She asked sweetly, as if she was writing in gold ink not blood.  
“Don’t know why you didn’t think of it sooner,” He said through gritted teeth and he heard Kate hum in reply.  
“You sound so charming when you’re gasping in pain,”  
“Charming is my second name,” He said, swallowing the blood where he’d bitten the inside of his own cheek.  
“Well in the name of all things charming I suppose I should sign off. Love Kate, Oh and kisses,” He felt the pen dig in at the base of his back,“Well I’m sure you won’t hesitate to pass on my regards,” She sighed and he heard her stand shortly followed by the guards holding him down releasing their grip. Stiles couldn’t bring himself to look up at her and for the moment relished in the feel of the carpet on the side of his face.

“So sorry I can’t stay longer but I had a wonderful time,”  
“Likewise,” Stiles grunted. He could only breath in shallow breaths so as not to stretch the tears across his back and fluff from the carpet tickled his throat and made his eyes water further.

“Say hi to Derek for me,” He heard her say to the betas as her footfalls sounded away as she left. Stiles tried to turn his head to look but couldn’t move quickly enough and just heard a yell from both Erica and Boyd, “I’ll show myself out, you seem a little indisposed,”

By the time he could shift his position to see the betas Kate was disappearing at the end of the hallway. Erica was pulling Boyd to his feet and both look to have their clothes covered in blood. Stiles watched them through half lidded eyes as they checked each other over. Between one blink and the next they were suddenly kneeling at his side  
“Stiles, are you okay?” Erica asked and he felt her hand reach for his own.  
“She gone?” He asked  
“Yeah,” Boyd nodded.  
“Then we’re good aren’t we, right?”  
“One of the stable boys has ridden out to bring Derek home,” Erica said trying to lift him to a sitting position and Stiles cried out as blood and pain rushed across his back.  
“No, he- he needs to,-” At which point Stiles promptly passed out.

-

Stiles woke and was dimly aware of something cool being pressed onto his lower back. It stung but it still took him a moment to pull himself to consciousness. His own breath was warm on the pillow he was lying face down onto but he had to concentrate hard to even turn his head.  
“Why isn’t it working? I swear this is what he used when I was all torn up,” Isaac said  
“What if it doesn’t work for Fae, or maybe he’s not Fae anymore,” Erica was there too  
“Maybe he still has magic and was just pretending this whole time,” Boyd sounded further off across the room.  
“Then why won’t he use it. Why won’t he heal himself?” Stiles opened his eyes a slit as Erica dropped onto the bed to sit beside him. She gasped when she noticed and leant in, her fingers running through his hair.  
“Hey, how’re you feeling?” She asked and Stiles tried to push himself up, “No don’t move,” He stopped immediately and instead rolled onto his side, his back felt twisted and burnt and it took him a couple of moments to breathe through the pain and tear his gaze up to Isaac who’d stepped into view. He looked equally rough and cuts were scattered across his arms and face. He coughed deeply and nearly doubled over before looking back apologetically In his hands were indeed a clump of the plant he’d pulled from the stream.

“Crush the leaves in water,” Stiles said at barely above a whisper, “Releases the oils,” His voice was raspy as he spoke but Isaac nodded and immediately plunged the leaves into a bloodied bowl of water Stiles assumed they’re been using to clean him up.

“You’ve been out a couple of hours, we’ve tried to clean up the cuts on your back. Boyd stitched up your arm,” Erica said. She continued to run her fingers through his hair and gently over his scalp. She didn’t miss the bruises but the action was soothing enough that the didn’t care.

“Hurts,” He groaned as Isaac pressed the damp leaves to his back. He tried to open his eyes more but even the low candlelight seemed too bright.

“Yeah, I know. We’d take your pain but we’re still healing ourselves,”  
“S’ok. ‘S everyone safe?” He asked, his voice largely muffled by the pillow.  
“Yeah, most of the staff got out of the house while she was fixated on you. Didn’t I tell you to hide when she was here?”  
“You were getting hurt,” He reached out and pinched her and then glanced up through half lidded eyes to see if she’d retaliate.

“We can heal,” Erica emphasised as she glared down at him.  
“So can I, just takes longer,” He said the words out of stubbornness but in some way he thought he probably deserved this for something.

“You’re an idiot,” Erica said as she pressed her hand over his arm  
“You sound like Lydia, or my dad. They’d both call me an idiot for that,” 

“Shut up Stiles,” “Are those leaves working?” She asked Issac and when Stiles squinted to look at her she was looking over his head with a sympathetic expression.  
“Uh, maybe. I think they look clearer, like they’re not oozing any more,” Isaac replied as he wiped the leaves deep into a cut which made him wince.

“You guys don’t have a great bedside manner,”  
“Shut up Stiles,” Erica was lying down next to him facing him and keeping her hand on his shoulder, “ We’ll get some bandages wrapped round you when the cuts have dried up a little. Go back to sleep, it’ll probably do you good,”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Stiles muttered back and he felt her pinch him back in retaliation 

“Should make you sleep on the floor again,” He said as he was already drifting into unconsciousness, “The cold, hard, dirty,-”

“Shut up Stiles,” He felt the bed dip behind him at the foot of the bed. He could still feel Isaac pressing the damp leaves to his back so the new presence behind him must have been Boyd.


	10. Something Immense and Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek returns from his journey into town to see the effects of Kate's visit. 
> 
> Fluff and comfort that really shouldn't have been so nice to write after the previous chapter nor taken so many words but I hope you enjoy it

There was a crash from the hallway that startled Stiles from his half dozing state and he froze waiting for some clue as to who was approaching.

“Kate was here and you didn’t keep him out of sight!” Derek’s voice didn’t exactly settle him but Stiles breathed out in slight relief it wasn’t the Argents returning. The reply to Derek was too muffled by the door for him to make out, but he was pretty sure it was Erica making it.

The voices became clearer as the footsteps neared the door. Stiles briefly considered pretending to be asleep when the door handle jostled but didn’t open.  
“What will I see in there Erica?”  
“Someone who’s hungry, where’s lunch!” He called out. His voice was still rough and his throat sore. 

The door opened slowly and when Stiles looked up from scowling into the pillow to meet Derek’s eyes he’d swear it was fear he was reading in the guy’s expression. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” He snapped and caught the momentary wince in Derek’s eyes. “Still me, alive and actually pretty much confined to one place for the moment. She didn’t cut out my tongue or anything. I suppose she’d kind of need me talking for information and stuff but hey, bonus,” He partially shrugged The bandages and cuts pulled if he moved his shoulders too much. Derek watched him from just inside the door

“I told you not to,-” Derek started.  
“And I couldn’t just listen to what was happening to the others!” He shouted as he shoved himself up. “I’m hurt and they’re not. That’s okay,”  
“No it’s not!”  
“What? Just because I haven’t got super werewolf insta-healing doesn’t mean they should take it any more than I should,”  
“You got hurt,”  
“It happens,” Stiles scowled at the floor to the side of the bed. He watched Derek’s boots step closer until he stood at Stiles’ bedside.

“I felt it,” Derek said and Stiles snapped his head up  
“What?”   
“I felt what she was doing to you,”  
“I thought with the potion you couldn’t,-”  
“It was too strong an impact; your fear and pain and emotion. I felt everything,” Derek said. A raw desperation in his voice that Stiles felt in his gut. Derek sighed and glanced over Stiles’ shoulder, “And then back to nothing,” He said quietly, “I thought you were dead,”

“Oh well,um,” He reached out to grab Derek’s hand and turned his hand over to press Derek’s fingers to his pulse,“Not dead,”  
“I can hear your heartbeat, Stiles,” He didn’t pull away from the touch though, “ I can’t imagine reanimating corpses is Kate’s style,”  
“I guess i’m glad of that,” Stiles glanced up at him sheepishly.  
“Can I, can I see what she did?”  
“It’s kind of bandaged but I guess they need replacing. Go ahead, but hey you gotta remember this one’s on me okay. I walked out there, I practically goaded her into it,”

“You could have gotten yourself killed,” He said slowly. His voice was level now, resigned and it only made Stiles feel more guilty. He closed his mouth from voicing another comeback. Derek carefully unpeeled the bandages from his back and chest. He worked in silence and when the last of the bandages fell away, Stiles felt Derek trail two fingers over the now scabbed over letters.

“I’m so sorry,” His hand moved down over the now stitched cut across his arm and settled his palm over it. A warm wave of relief washed over Stiles as the pain seemed to evaporate.

“Are you okay?” Derek murmured after a moment longer.  
“To be honest Erica took the brunt of things before I got involved, and Isaac said she ran into him as she was leaving. He’s still coughing up from some powdered wolfsbane stuff she threw in his direction,”  
“They’ll be okay, they’ve seen worse,”  
“Well so have I,” He protested. Derek’s palm remained firm and warm against Stiles’ skin, “The stories I could tell you,” He chuckled lightly and caught Derek’s eye over his shoulder but his humour attempt hadn’t moved Derek’s heavy concern.

“You weren’t my responsibility then,”  
“Other peoples choices aren’t your responsibility y’know,”  
“You’re skinny, weak and defenceless.You think you can face down Kate and come away unscathed. I thought I’d warned you enough,”

“Guess i’m just too stupid for my own good,” He pulled away from Derek and shifted so he was out of reach. “These need to breathe anyway, I’ll rewrap them later,” He shrugged and pulled a spare shirt from a drawer next to the bed. “Go see your pack. They’ve definitely been more on edge since they knew you’d becoming back,”  
“I’ll go see if I can get you some food,”  
“Fine,”

“And you’re too damn smart for your own good. Or at least you like to think you are,” Derek said shooting him a withering look before shutting the door behind him.  
“Don’t you have the last word and leave! Derek Hale get back here!” He shouted at the now empty room. He knew Derek could no doubt hear him across the house, let alone a few steps from the door. The door remained closed, “Asshole werewolves,” He grumbled and crossing his arms fell back into the pillows with a wince.

-

 

“Cook sends her love,” Derek said as he set the tray down on the bedside table. Stiles hadn’t realised he’d dozed off but found himself looking up at Derek and feeling happier knowing he was back and so much closer. He looked less fraught with concern now and Stiles felt a sudden, but repress-able urge, to reach out and rub away the rest of the frown lines he could see.

“I knew she’d miss me after a day or two,” He grinned and reached for the plate.   
“Erica going to stop by after she’s completed the rounds too,”  
“Along with the other two,” Stiles added, “They’ve been spending the night. When four people can fit in a bed it’s probably a bit big for just one,”

“You don’t mind them here?” Derek asked as he sat at the foot of the bed.  
“Me and Scott share a bed all the time, though that’s usually where ever we pass out in the middle of doing something. He can fall asleep anywhere,”

“Are you okay with me being here?”  
“Why wouldn’t I be? Do you snore? Kick in your sleep?”  
“I haven’t taken the bond suppressant in three days now. If it hasn’t worn off completely by now it will soon,”  
“Oh cool so I can start reading your mind and,-”  
“It means it’s pulling at me to touch you more,”  
“What like you want to touch my dick? Cause’ buddy we’re-” He tried to joke and Derek cut him off before he could finish the crude comment.  
“Primarily, I want to comfort my injured mate,” Stiles coughed on the water he’d taken a sip from. It felt odd to hear he was someone’s mate. Odd and uncomfortable. 

“Easy there big guy we’ve only just gotten past the feeding and wooing. Hugs and hand holding comes after you bring me a gift,” He wiped at his mouth and looked up at Derek with a grin.  
“What was the wooing part?” Derek asked his head cocked to one side and eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“You called me too smart for my own good. It was borderline insult compliment but it’ll pass,” Stiles said, between mouthfuls of food.  
“If I wanted to compliment you it’d be a lot closer to,-” Stiles leaned forwards sharply and slapped a hand over Derek’s mouth before he could utter another sound. He didn’t want to hear neither the backhanded nor the possible genuine compliment that came at the end of the sentence.

“We can skip to the hugging and hand holding if you’re really that eager,” Derek’s hand slid around Stiles’ calf and he felt a little more pain trickle away. “Good plan,” He nodded as he retracted his hand, “Food comes first,” Derek huffed and rolled his eyes reaching over to Stiles’ bedside table for a book left there. He opened it to the first page and with one hand on Stiles’ leg, entirely ignored Stiles in favour of it.

Derek continued to read after Stiles had finished the food. He set the bowl to one side and had leant back on the pillows. He found himself staring at Derek. 

His thoughts drifted to their supposed bond. He tried reaching out and feeling what Derek was feeling, read his mind or find a memory that wasn’t Stiles’ own.  
“I know what you’re doing,” Derek said without looking up.   
“No you don’t,” Stiles kicked at him and Derek held onto his leg just tight enough that he couldn’t do it again.  
“Okay I don’t,” Derek said a light sarcasm in his voice, “and I won’t help you,”  
“Then I’ll figure it out on my own,” Regardless of Derek paying him no attention Stiles stuck his tongue out at him. 

Fae never had this trouble with their bonded. They could feel their mates and their whole family always; they could reach out and brush emotions without being bonded and they didn’t have to work to feel it.   
“Think of a colour,” Stiles told him.   
“Okay,” Derek still didn’t look up. Stiles tried to feel what Derek might be drawn to. He tried to picture something that Derek would feel and the colour it brought to mind..  
“Blue,” Stiles guessed and Derek shook his head.  
“No,”  
“Red?” He asked ad Derek shook his head again  
“No,”  
“Uh...Green?”   
“No,” Derek said with a sigh. He knew as well as Stiles did, that he wasn’t reading anyone’s mind, let alone Derek’s.

“This is important,” Stiles could hear the whine in his voice but he didn’t care. Derek glanced up and frowned.  
“Why is it important to you?”   
“You can’t be bonded and not feel bonded,” Stiles explained and he pouted.  
“Then you’re trying to feel the wrong thing,” He set the book aside on the bed and turned so one leg was crooked on the covers.

“And you can feel the right thing?”  
“I can feel you,”  
“What about me?”  
“Just you. Your frustration and your focus, when it comes and goes. I could feel you at peace when you were asleep and in pain when you move and pull at your cuts,”  
“Anyone would know that about me if they spoke to me for thirty seconds,”  
“I can’t explain it well enough then. I feel it because I want to share it with you. So that it’s a part of me too,” Derek explained and Stiles huffed out a laugh.  
“You read romances and fairytales don’t you,”  
“You asked me what I felt,”

“Okay, okay. But,” Stiles started and then shot a look to Derek and trained his eyes back to the blankets between them. Does it feel great, so great and immense you can’t feel what you’re feeling without the other person. That it’s overwhelming and like this brilliant light that makes you whole. That without it you’d feel empty but for dust and a cavernous loss inside you,”

“That sounds more romantic and fairytale like to me,”  
“Doesn’t matter then. Forget I said anything. I don’t want to feel whatever it is anyway,”  
“Is that what Fae bonds are suppose to be? Something immense and bright and makes two into a whole,” Derek asked, his hand tracing a line up and down Stiles’ leg  
“I guess anyone who loved someone enough to be bonded to them couldn’t think of anything in all their lifetimes that was better,”  
“We weren’t bonded because of love Stiles,” Derek said and his hand stilled.  
“I know!” He said. The outburst catching himself by surprise and they both quietened. Stiles couldn’t make himself look up at Derek and shuffled his legs beneath the bedding.

“Hey, I need to piss. Can you get off my leg?” He pulled away from the bedding and didn’t spare Derek a sideways glance.

Stiles was grateful there was access to the bathroom from his room, and grateful for the bowl of water and wash cloth that had been left for him. He wrung it out and wiped it quickly over his face before setting his hands against the shelf either side of it. He bowed his head low. He took eight long deep breaths before he could raise his head, another as he ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the door.

If Derek could feel him through the bond now wooden door would make the difference. He glanced over the the upper shelf and grabbed the spare clean bandages as he stepped back out into the bedroom.

“Derek, can you help me with these? Twisting really isn’t my strong point right now and all I want to do is go back to sleep,” Derek nodded and rose from the bed.   
“You need help getting the shirt off? I need to reach the top,”  
“Uh yeah, thanks,” Stiles nodded and lifted the edge to help him. 

Derek worked quickly though Stiles felt his hands linger over the edges of the bandages and skin as he tucked in the last of the ties and offered Stiles the shirt to slip into again.

“I can smell the beta’s on you,” Derek muttered close to his ear  
“Hey I don’t think you’ve washed in at least a day either, I wasn’t going to mention it,”  
“No, their smells are deeper, it means you’re pack,” Stiles said with a quickstep over to the fire to stoke it before he headed back to bed.  
“Oh,” He paused and when he looked to Derek he seemed happy or at least content with the revelation, “But i’m fae,”

“Werewolf packs aren’t just made up of werewolves,” Derek’s hand came up to rest on his shoulder as Stiles stood from stacking another log onto the fire.  
“Oh and I thought I’d been bitten in my sleep. Y’know I was looking forwards to howling at the moon,” He said turning into it so Derek’s hand moved to his collar and his thumb touched the skin of Stiles’ neck.  
“Can I, I’d like to, I,” Stiles waited as Derek’s eye darted everywhere except to Stiles. His eyes finally rested on where at Stiles’ collarbone his thumb was rubbing up and down, “Since the other keep an eye on you here, can I? Uh, stay that is,”  
“Sure, what’s one more werewolf? Those pesky bond feelings want you to stay close now or something?”  
“It’s not just that,”  
“Ah so pesky bond feelings and werewolf pack impulses. Make yourself at home, I’ll be out like a light,” He shrugged off Derek’s hand and crossed to the bed where he slipped under the covers and rolled onto his side so that there was as little pull on his injuries as possible. He hugged the pillow tight and glanced back at Derek who hadn’t moved.

“I know you say you don’t sleep but unless you turn into a stone gargoyle at night, you can sit or lie down at the very least,”  
“I didn’t know where you’d be okay with me being,” Derek said slightly apologetically.  
“The bed is comfiest, and you’ll want to grab a spot before Erica comes barging in and claiming more than her fair share. The others kind of sprawl either here or on the chairs,” He explained as he watched Derek follow his gestures from the bed to the chairs across the room and still he didn’t take a step, 

“Okay I’m tired and making the decision for you. Just get over here,” He shut his eyes and waited to hear if Derek did indeed move. 

He didn’t hear Derek’s footfalls but he felt a slight shift in the air and then when the covers were lifted and the bed sank. Stiles cracked and eye open. Derek was lying on his side facing him, not a foot between them. Stiles reached out a hand and grabbed the fold of Derek’s shirt tightly in his fist.   
“Since you’re here, you could but that werewolf pain relief to good use if you like,” He said, half muffled into the pillow beneath his head. The covers shifted and he felt Derek’s hand slip under his shirt, and his fingers pressed just beneath the lower edge of the bandage around his waist.

I didn’t think it’d feel like this either. Stiles heard just as he was on the edge of sleep. He didn’t pull himself back to consciousness but shuffled and muttered back an unintelligible ‘What?’

“I didn’t say anything Stiles,” Stiles huffed and curled in on himself, his hand still clasped in Derek’s shirt.

 

-

A few days later a replenishment of the bond suppressant potion arrived, courtesy of a vaguely familiar girl who barely spared a glance for Stiles or Derek as she handed over the bottle and returned to her horse. 

“Malia says she’ll be delivering this from now on,” Derek shook the bottle in his hands and twisted the cap to loosen it, “You can trust her if she sees you outside the house. She’s got some supernatural in her too,” He glanced up the drive as she rode away. He took a deep breath and swallowed a mouthful of the dark liquid and replaced the cap.

“And this guy?” Stiles asked. The new sight of a cart and driver appeared half way up the front drive. It was Derek’s belongings from town if his embellishment on the chests were to be trusted.. 

“Probably best to keep out of the way for the moment,” He set the bottle down on a side table and waved Boyd to him and the pair descended the steps to meet the driver.

Stiles lingered just inside the door. He wondered just how easy it was to ride a horse. Isaac said he knew how to and Derek seemed to. There were horses on the grounds who were used to the scent of werewolf. These horses bringing Derek’s stuff from whatever town he’d been in seemed skittish at best. The horses eyed Derek and Boyd who lingered back as half a dozen staff unloaded the boxes and took them inside via a side entrance.

As the very last bag was unloaded Derek beckoned it to be brought over as Boyd paid the driver and nodded that he could leave. The man appeared to apologise for the behaviour of the horses. He assured Boyd several times that they hadn’t cause a fuss on the journey and that all the belongings were in one piece. Stiles watched the man drive the horses back away from the house and didn’t notice Derek step up beside him.

“I bought this for you when I was in town,” Stiles startled and looked down to see a small box in Derek’s hands. It was a dark wood and was detailed; delicate oak leaves and roses.

“Uh, I’d say a jewellery box is more Erica’s area,” Stiles said as he eyed it. Derek rolled his eyes and turned to shut the door.  
“Perhaps we should go inside and you can open it,” He said softly and Stiles stepped his foot in the way of the shutting door.  
“Or outside?” Stiles suggested stepping back towards the open door.  
“Or outside,” Derek conceded with a small smile, “Do you need a coat?”  
“Nope,” Derek rolled his eyes, glanced around to make sure there was no-one nearby and then led Stiles around to the side of the house. 

“As courting goes you’re not doing too badly,” Stiles said as he took the box from Derek’s hands and turned it to examine the pattern.   
“I’m winning your affection?” Derek looked surprised as they sat under the shade of a tree out of view of the house. There was a light breeze through the leaves above them but Stiles didn’t feel it.  
“Well, I think that depends on what’s in here,” He shook it slightly from side to side and Derek’s hand shot out to stop him.   
“You probably don’t want to do that,” He dropped his hand away and Stiles flipped the small gold latch up and lifted the lid. The smell of dried and ground herbs hit him first. It smelt like some of the perfumed bags the maid staff had tried to leave around his room the first few days he’d allowed them inside. Inside were eight little boxes surrounding a small pestle and mortar. There were coloured powders in little glass jars and handy-holes to lift the first layer. He moved it to see a collection of small bags each labelled by embroidery to read the names of crystals and different types of wood bark.

Stiles ran his fingers over the fine gold thread lettering and looked to Derek in case he didn’t truly know what present he was handing him.  
“This is,” He couldn’t find the words to describe the feelings in his chest  
“Everything the very suspicious apothecary tradesman had that he assured me had uses in Fae magic. I think he thought I was a madman or a idiot so there’s probably stuff he was just trying to sell me stuff to fill his own pockets of coin but,” Derek shrugged and hazarded a hopeful smile. 

 

“Oh I uh, wanted you to have this too,” He pulled a key on a string from around his neck, “Here,”   
“What is it?”  
“The only key to the library. I know you like it in there and I kind of guessed you didn’t like other people in there with you,”  
“But you love the library too,”  
“I thought you might like the space to yourself,” Derek said quietly.  
“Thank you,” Stiles said, his voice barely there as he clutched the key in both his hands close to his chest. “ You don’t mind me using this stuff?” He waved his hand over the box.

“I didn’t buy it to taunt and punish you with it. If you need anything else, ingredients wise, there are witches in some of the cottages on the grounds I could ask and there are books in the library that have spells but I don’t know if they work or not,” Stiles couldn’t bring himself to say a word. Derek seemed so inclined to ramble on and fill the gap in conversation the way Stiles did usually, “Though you probably don’t want anyone to find you using it. The maids have all the gossip and I can’t guarantee one of them isn’t an Argent spy but,” Derek nodded to the box in Stiles’ lap, “If it could help you smile more easily, if I could hear you laugh and see you happy, I want you to have it,”

Stiles felt his eyes begin to water and he felt something huge and bright in his chest. It grew until it aided the lump in Stiles’ throat and pulled his smile wide on his face.

Despite Derek having ducked his head Stiles shifted to his knees to face him and cupped a hand around his jaw. He pressed a quick and light kiss to his cheek. Derek’s cheeks flushed pick and as he looked up Stiles felt the brimming tears spill over.   
“Thank you,”

He settled himself back down against the tree, his side pressed close beside Derek’s and his head cushioned on his shoulder. He ran his fingers over the detailing on the box and thought about what he could do first.


	11. A little Fragile Hope

Stiles had grown accustomed to sneaking out to the main gardens away from the house. Even since Derek was back in the house he found reasons to escape his company and duck out of sight to feel the grass under his feet. If he headed to the neater flower gardens there was more chance of being noticed by other staff. If he could find Isaac tending the beds there or in the vegetable patches before another member of staff spotted him, his ‘escape attempt’ wouldn’t be reported Derek or Erica. 

Stiles always noticed even if he didn’t comment on the welts around the edges of Isaac's clothing. His nails were raw and cracked which couldn't be solely down to gardening, especially not with added werewolf healing. If there were near water Stiles would set a bowl down next to him and a cloth. He’d find some makeshift healing or antiseptic plants and offer them to Isaac. 

When Isaac had directed the conversation far enough away from injuries he often asked Stiles about the plants and their uses. Stiles wondered how anyone could go through life without needing to know the use of half of what he was teaching Isaac about. 

Stiles relished the days when it was raining more than those when it was dry. Besides the fact that less people were out in the gardens that he’d have to avoid, Isaac would almost always be out in the gardens. Stiles could lecture him on how much better the rain was in comparison to the rest of the weather. Isaac used the quiet of the gardens as his excuse for staying out for so long. Even when the rain began a chill the spread across Stiles’ skin and he resigned himself to heading back inside. Isaac remained; even if he didn’t appear to be working on anything in particular. 

 

It was one of these days when after he’d spent hours outside, Stiles curled up by the fire in the library, under all the blankets he could find, to warm his fingers up enough that he could feel and move them again. He’d tried to get a spark to light between his fingers with his magic but nothing appeared beyond a dull glow which could have been the light from the fire catching the light of the powder.

“Stiles?” He glanced up as Derek looked around the library door.

“Oh uh yeah, I’m here,” Stiles turned quickly the top blanket billowing out around from his shoulders. “Did I miss dinner?” and then began to smell burning “Oh crap,” 

“I thought Erica told you not to get in trouble this morning,” He walked over to sit on the sofa behind Stiles as he patted out the smoke rising from the blanket. He coughed as the smoke caught in his throat and then sneezed and shivered as a wave of cold shot through him again.

“It’s not my fault the chef decided to poison lunch,” He pulled the blankets around him further.

“Erica tells me you’re just sick from a cold,” Derek said, kicking him gently in the back

“How would she know? Erica tells me she doesn’t get colds,”

“Werewolves don’t tend to get ill at all,” Derek shrugged. 

“Neither do fae, only if we’ve done something to deserve it,”

“It won’t last long. You must have just spent too long out in the cold since I left,”

“I didn’t want Isaac to be on his own. He wouldn’t go home so I stayed out with him,”

“Isaac is a werewolf. Rain won’t hurt him,”

“Rain doesn’t hurt anyone!” Stiles huffed and turned his back on Derek who prodded him in the back with his foot. Stiles ignored him until he felt movement behind him and looked up. Derek shifted to sit on the floor next to him and he reached across under the blankets at Stiles’ neck and shoulder

“What’re you doing?” He asked as Derek’s hand pressed against the back of his neck .

“Taking a little of your pain, I thought it might help,”

“’M really cold,” Stiles leant into his side and Derek’s hand moved to cup his shoulder and pull him closer.

“You have eight blankets here,” He picked at two of them which Stiles quickly pulled out of his way.

“Being told that by you instead of Erica makes it feel entirely different,”

“Hey would it help if I uh,” Derek nodded to the corner of Stiles’ mountain of blankets and raised an eyebrow.

“If you wanted in on all this you only had to ask,” He shuffled the blankets apart and leant in again with Derek flush against his side rather than with eight blankets between them. Even through his clothes Stiles felt the rush of warmth and he shivered again. 

“Isaac didn’t look good today,” Stiles muttered, “He had a black eye and there was a cut across his neck,”

“He can look after himself,”

“Can he? If he wasn’t a werewolf how many black eyes and welts would he have then?” Derek looked ashamed, his head tipped down, “He only lives with his dad, that’s who’s attacking him. Can’t he just come and live here with us. Erica and Boyd do, or could he live on a different house on the grounds,”

“I’ll talk to him and arrange something tomorrow,” Derek said and Stiles had the distinct feeling he was being told to change the subject.

“I tried to heal him without thinking about it,” He said quietly and waited for Derek to tense at the suggestion beside him, “His dad saw me and came running over yelling at me,” Derek went still behind him, “Isaac flinched like he was about to get a worse beating than Kate gave us all. His Dad doesn’t trust me, let’s be honest none of your staff really do. Does he know his son is a werewolf. Is that why he’s such an asshole to him?” Stiles asked “I told him to come up to the house but he wouldn’t. Said he couldn’t spend any more nights out of the cottage. It’s not right we have to do something,”

“You have, I’ll sort it now,” Derek assured him again. Stiles paused and watched Derek’s profile as he stared into the fire and he didn’t in fact feel very reassured.

“Did you know?” Stiles asked as he leant away from Derek and put space between them, “How long have you know he’s been being abused?”

“At least since his older brother died,” Derek said, he sighed and couldn’t meet Stiles’ eye.

“How long Derek?” He pulled back and scrambled to his feet, putting distance between them.

“Three years,” Derek admitted.

“How could you let it go on? You knew and what? Was there too much self pity of your own to deal with,”

“It was a .. Bad decision on my part,” Derek said, he picked his words slowly and carefully but there was nothing to stop the distrust curdling in his gut. Derek’s whole demeanour seemed to set him on edge 

“Isaac doesn’t let us in on much to do with his family,” Derek said with a wince as he looked to Stiles that clearly wanted him to be back at his side.

“But you’re pack. _You’re_ his family. When is that not enough?”

“I didn’t want to pry. Just because they’re pack doesn't make it my business unless they bring it to me. They’re under my care, everyone on the estate, they’re all at risk and they all need my attention. I can only act on what’s brought to me,”

“That’s crap,”

“I’ll fix it,” Derek said and when Stiles didn’t respond or react beyond holding his ground he nodded once and stood “Now,” Derek turned and left the room. 

Stiles waited a moment and then got up and locked the door behind him before returning to the sofa and wrapping himself back under the blankets. 

He was hurt and unhappy and Isaac was out there on the grounds somewhere probably getting another beating that would kill a human and he’d been ignored by his pack. Even after having been missing from his family for so long he knew he’d never be forsaken in such a way. He felt guilty he hadn’t done more than heal Isaac’s wounds when he saw him in the garden. 

“These aren’t _my_ family. They’re not my responsibility. I don’t have to care about them,” He told himself, repeated it like a mantra as he turned the library key over in his hands. “I don’t want to care,” He squeezed his eyes shut and willed it to be true.

 

Stiles managed to avoid Derek for two days after that. He’d considered going to find Derek on the third morning but after looking in the library, the study, the breakfast room and asking Erica without success he decided that he could hold a grudge for far longer than Derek presumed to. The downside of that being he didn’t know what was happening in regards to Isaac. Isaac hadn’t been in the gardens and Erica hadn’t mentioned him in their brief conversation they’d shared. She’d warned him to stay in the house and out of trouble a little more forcefully than usual and Stiles had ignored her. He locked the library door to let Derek’s staff assume he was secured inside and headed outside with his box of ingredients. 

Knowing they had the potential for magic dissuaded his insecurities every time a familiar spell failed until in frustration he’d thrown a pinch of powdered root away from himself and it had lit up in arch of red sparks. Stiles froze. 

“It worked. Oh my.. The wills. They’re still here!” He clasped his hands tight over his mouth to stop from exclaiming anything else and attracting attention. Tears welled in his eyes and hit bit down on his bottom lip. He couldn’t stop smiling. His magic was still here.

He picked up the mixture and tried again and again and to his great disappointment he couldn’t get the magic to spark a second time. Still, the ingredients weren’t as fresh as he’d like, or as reliably acquired. Half could have been dust coloured to the right hue and he wouldn’t be able to feel the difference in his hand.

 

Where he sat in the gardens he could hear visitors approaching down the main driveway and at the sound of hoof falls curiosity prompted him to find out who was arriving. A messenger. A messenger on a fast horse by the look of the lean muscle of the mare. Stiles lingered behind a hedgerow and watched at the messenger remounted and urged the horse back down the driveway and away. Stiles could think of a hundred places he wished he could go. Not on a horse though. He’d developed a healthy suspicion for horses after Isaac had tried to introduce him to the ones in the stables. With the visitor out of sight Stiles’ interest in staying so close to the house waned. He collected his small bag of food and magic ingredients and headed deeper into the gardens.

“What do you mean he’s not there!” Stiles was just returning when he heard Derek’s shout reverberate through the hallways. He shot towards the source of the sound, slowing down just outside the door. 

“He is a fae sir,”

“A fae bound without his magic. So a skinny defenceless human who still manages to outwit my staff,” Stiles smirked and then hesitated. He was unsure as to whether to go in and admit his actions or pretend they’d made the mistake in losing him.

“He must have locked the library to give the impression of being in there. If you’d had a tracking spell cast on him like it was suggested, sir,” Stiles held his breath at the thought. 

“I’m not having a tracking spell cast on him by yet another creature Argents think I should be controlling,” Derek countered the anger in his voice only growing. Stiles was so focussed on trying to hear what was being said about him he didn’t notice one of Derek’s men come up behind him before his arm was being crushed in a vice like hold.

“GET your hands OFF me!” He yelled only half catching a look at the man’s face and realising which of Derek’s men it was before Derek appeared in the corridor Stiles was attempting to shake off Boyd’s firm grip and failing. Upon seeing Derek, Boyd nodded to him and released Stiles. Stiles muttered out a curse in a dead language but barely had time to compose himself before Derek was facing him down toe to toe.

“Where the hell have you been!” Derek shouted, his voice was deafening and his face contorted in fury.

“Just for a walk outside,” Stiles pouted, “To, y’know, not go stir crazy,” Stiles’ eyes flickered past Derek to where several maids had stepped out to watch the argument.

Derek didn’t need to look around to know that as many staff as were nearby had opened doors out into the corridor to see and hear where the commotion was leading. Derek straightened his back and turned slowly shooting them all a glare. 

“Everyone out. Take a break. Anywhere not here,” 

A chorus of “Yes sir’s and “Yes Mr Hale,” replied followed by a multitude of shuffling footsteps. Derek waited, concentrating until Stiles imagined he’d heard them mostly fade to the back rooms. He grabbed Stiles’ arm and yanked him into the nearest room shutting the door behind them. Stiles was pushed with such force he ended up several metres into the room and when he turned back to glare at Derek the man was leaning heavily against the door.

“Stiles I’m trying to protect you.” He said calmly before pushing himself off the door to cross to where Stiles stood. “How the hell can I protect you if all my staff are constantly under the impression I have no idea where you are and have absolutely no control over you. Do you want to be tortured instead?” His voice was intimidating and as much as Stiles wanted to runaway and hide from a confrontation with Derek so enraged this wasn’t a moment when he could keep his words bottled inside.

“I AM BEING TORTURED!” Stiles shouted back at him. 

“You don’t know the meaning of the word,” Derek hissed out at him. “I’m protecting you. I’ve protected you from everything that could be happening to you and you treat it all like a game,” Stiles’ frown turned into a sneer at Derek’s conceited words.

“Excuse you but protect me? I only need protecting because of you. Creatures of this world have done nothing but hurt me!” He took a deep breath and knew he’d said the wrong thing when Derek’s face flinched at the harsh words. “Besides I came back,” he reasoned quietly his eyes darting to the floor. He rolled his shoulders and shrugged to try and release some of the tension that was only increasing his frustration and angry temperament.“Its just, I need to be outside it helps, it’s so cramped and bare inside for me. With everything in it’s right place and clean and it make my head hurt sometimes, to not be able to hear anything from the walls around me.” He admitted, desperately hoping that Derek would understand.

“Could you not tell me? We could go together. What if someone found you?” Stiles sighed. Derek wasn’t going to get this. It wasn’t within Derek’s realm of understanding the connection Stiles had with the Wills of Mother Nature and the way it spoke to him. He rolled his eyes and let his head fall back to stare at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at Derek and continuing.

“No. I know you don’t like me at the best of times,” He snapped out of frustration and then waved his hands to stop Derek from replying before “That’s not it,” 

“Then what?” Derek demanded.

“You always have to do things at set times, be here, go there, do this. I don’t. I needed to go outside so I went outside. If I’d waited until you were free to ask if we could go together, by the time you were free, the feeling would have passed, and it would have chipped away at everything else,” Stiles said, trying to explain the need as best he could, “Everything else I am, everything I still have left,”

“I’m sorry,” Derek looked as if he’d shrunk upon hearing the words. Stiles wanted to step forward. Run his hands over Derek’s arms like he would do if it were another fae stood in front of him but he daren’t belittle his own argument by the act of forgiving.

“You’re not, you decide to keep me as you little pet, glory spoils or whatever else. I’ll die in this little place, where I’m so far from the Wills of this earth they can’t find me. And with me gone the Wills will call to you and you’ll go mad trying to deny them,” Stiles spun on his heel and left he room, barely picking up Derek’s soft and muffled words.

“I hope so,”

 

Stiles had been curled up in his armchair in the library for hours now. He’d left the door unlocked in the hopes Derek would come and sit with him. He’d been sat there long since dinner would have been served; it was unlikely he would have liked any of it anyway. He’d been almost drifting off into a light sleep when the door behind opened slowly and after a moment Derek appeared at his side, and in his hands a glass bowl filled with a multitude of fruits. 

“Uh hey,” Stiles said shifting so he could sit up further in the chair. He looked up at Derek but Derek barely glanced at him.

“Hello,” Derek said slowly, avoiding Stiles’ eyes and then placing the fruit bowl on the table just within Stiles’ reach. “I’m sorry I shouted, I was worried Gerard or some could have gotten to you. I panicked when I got back, there was a letter from them and Erica said they had no idea where you were,” Derek admitted. His words carefully enunciated. “I’ll uh, leave you alone now,”

“No!” Derek startled at Stiles’ outburst, “I’m sorry I left without leaving a note of something,” Stiles admitted he sucked on his bottom lip for a second, “At least for you, but I didn’t know when you’d be back and I’m sorry but you have to understand I get these urges when I’m not around my fae clan for long periods of time. I need connections to them to keep me grounded,”

“I understand,” Derek nodded and then once again turned to head towards the door.

“I, uh, left the door open for you. So you could sit with me. If, uh, you wanted to,” Derek met his gaze

“Hey, could we get a dog or something? Humans have dogs, right? I’ve always loved animals but a guard dog could protect me,”

“Dogs don’t tend to like werewolves,” Derek said, “I wanted one when I was young too,”

“Oh,” Stiles sunk into the armchair a little defeated.

“Could get you a hawk, some bird of prey. Takes some training but they’re impressive creatures,” Stiles mumbled his distaste under his breath and though Derek didn’t hear him entirely his head jerked up “What?”

“Birds kind of scare me actually,” Stiles admitted and Derek choked out a laugh, clasped his hand over his mouth in an attempt to cover it up and then at the look Stiles gave him burst out laughing again anyway.

“Hey, I don’t laugh at you!”

“You laugh at me all the time,” Derek said, and well, he wasn’t wrong.

“Not to your face,”

“I don’t think that makes it better,”

“Ugh fine,” Stiles waved a hand at him. Derek was wiping a stray tear from his eye. “Entirely _not_ funny. In the slightest,” Stiles crossed his arms and scowled out of the window. Derek’s chuckles eventually sporadically petered out and then Stiles heard him clear his throat.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Stiles snapped looking round at Derek who was still smiling.

“Why don’t you like birds?” He asked slowly.

“I don’t know. They have wings. They can fly all up in your face,” Stiles said waving his hands to emphasise the total

“Can’t remember the last time I ever saw a bird fly into someone’s face,”

“Well I don’t know! I just don’t like birds,”

“Butterflies and bugs can get in peoples faces when they’re flying,”

“Yeah but they’re small and you can waft them away. Birds have got the whole evil stare thing down,” Stiles said as he pointed two fingers between his own eyes and Derek. Derek smiles and ducked his head to hide it.

“the uh, letter that arrived today, amongst other things Gerard’s been asking me more things to ask you,” Derek said and when he looked up Stiles saw that the smile had disappeared. Replaced with a frown and lines across his forehead full of tension.

“Shoot,” Stiles said, as he reached for the bowl of fruit and plucking out a newly ripened pear.

“Firstly, he wants to know what other creatures are other there,” Derek said, “Then he wants to know how to harness their power. He has a, uh, beastiary. ”

“Oh cool so do I,” Derek raised an eyebrow, “Well _I_ don’t have it _now_ , and it kind of covers everything since the first ethereal pulse on the planet so probably not what he was after exactly,”

“I won’t mention it,” Derek squinted and nodded once as he spoke. 

“Wait, what does he think is out there in the world?”

“He knows werewolves and fae exist, obviously. He’s yet to find any evidence of Mermaids but that’s definitely one of them. I don’t hear all his plans,” Derek shrugged and kept his gaze down to the floor.

“So he just wanted to know what, names? I toss out a few he hasn’t heard of and he can track those down,”

“Pretty much,”

“Ooh! Tell him about the Ouroboros,” Stiles said with a grin and drew a circle in the air with his finger.

“What is that?”

“The first immortal creature. Snake eating it’s own tail, that thing. You have one in a painting upstairs,” Stiles said, Derek raised an eyebrow, “I saw it the other day when I was looking around,”

“Only one of those I take it,” Derek said warily, “If it’s the first,”

“Yep. Ooh get him chasing a chimera or a djinn. Now they are as vengeful as they come, let me tell you,”

“Have you ever met one?” Derek asked.

“Djinn feed off potential so they set you up in your own perfect dream world and let you live out your life there. They can sometimes influence what you see too if you’ve angered them they can effectively set you off on a loop of your worst possible nightmare,”

“That’s not what I asked,” Derek prompted him and Stiles cringed at the memory.

“I uh ran into a young one. Pretty girl but didn’t understand she wasn’t my type. I spent about a year in the dream state until Scotty tracked her down. Her mum was so pissed at her for wasting a good meal,” Stiles chuffed as he remembered the way Scott had leant over him as he came out of the dream-haze Stiles had promptly thrown up. He wouldn’t mind being pulled out of this reality to see Scotty’s face again.

“You’re happy about that,” Derek said.

“This is totally good meal material,” Stiles said waving his hand up and down himself. The juice from the pear had left a tacky gleam across his palm which he wiped across his trousers. He reached for another piece from the bowl and a small thin cloth hit him in the face. Stiles pulled it off and stared across at Derek in mock shock.

“Use that for your hands,” Derek said nodding, “It’s how us lot eat with a bit of manners,”

“Oh well if I am to stay here a little longer,” He wiped his hands free of the sticky juice and then wiped the cloth across his face. It smelt faintly of Derek and everything he’d come to associate with him and his home. He half wanted to keep in with him but squashed the thought by launching the now dirty cloth back at him.

“Thanks,” Derek said dryly. Rolling his eyes and throwing the piece of cloth into the fire.

“Hey that’s a waste!” Stiles objected as he watched the material catch alight and burn up in the flames.

“I have hundreds Stiles. They’re made for me, with my initials in the corner. It’s not worth cleaning them,”

“It’s still a waste. You haven’t had to make that,”

“Okay, I won’t throw any more away,” Derek shrugged. Cleaning it wouldn’t be his responsibility anyway, Stiles guessed.

“Good. Scott always does that. If we’re out walking he’ll just shed his jacket and leave it in the middle of the forest whether we were planning to come back that way or not. His mum goes mad at him for it but he wouldn’t wear a jacket if he didn’t have to,”

“I think I understand the feeling,” Derek picked at the edge of his overcoat.

“You wouldn’t wear your jackets? But they’re so soft and-,”

“Then you wear them,”

“But they’re made just for you!” Stiles objected. He would have loved to bury himself in some of Derek’s clothes; the patterns and textures event to some extent the way they were just Derek’s. Erica had mentioned Derek had someone to make all of his clothes for him.

“You’re not that much smaller than I am, You’d probably look good in some of them,”

“I’ll keep what I’ve got thanks,” Stiles waved him off as he deliberately wiped his dirty fingers down his clothes again.

“Suit yourself,”

“Lydia always has the nicest clothes,” Stiles mused. As he sat staring into the fire he could almost see her face looking back at him.

“Were you and she..” Derek started and then his sentence trailed off and he seemed to shake his head as if dismissing the idea.

“What?”

“Together? Before, uh, this,” Derek said awkwardly.

“Only in my dreams,” Stiles said as he threw a hand out in front of him as if reachign for a far off object.

“Sorry,”

“Nah, Her and Jackson, he’s a changling, They’re practiacally fated,” Stiles shrugged and as he thought aboutt eh two of them he found that he missed Jackson too, “I wish you could meet Scotty or Lydia. Like I wish they could come here without being imprisoned and tortured I mean,”

“I, I could try,” Derek started and Stiles’ gaze immediately snapped back to him, “You could have them here. Without anyone knowing,” Stiles knew Derek and wanted to believe that he wouldn’t fall for such an obvious trap but still...

“You’d clear everyone out of the mansion so I could have my family here? You’d let me put up wards and do magic that could potentially hurt you,”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Derek rolled his eyes and shrugged. As Stiles’ face dropped Derek nodded,“Yeah I would,” He assured him further

“But the staff are always here, getting rid of them would be suspicious,” Stiles asked as his mind tripped over the risks and consequences, “What if Gerard found out, you said he probably had spies in your staff,”

“Every month everyone’s gone for three days on the full moon. It’s part of the reason Gerard has been pushing for more information from you because he thinks as a werewolf I’m going to rip you apart when I feel the moon’s pull the strongest,”

“Uh,” Stiles started, “You won’t, right?” He asked tentatively.

“No, but-,”Derek shook his head, “I could leave as well. If you wanted,” Stiles waited for any sign of deception. 

“I need to burn wolfsbane as part of a spell to call to family but I’ll open all the windows. And well uh, I can’t leave the house right so what if something happened and if no one was here,” His dad had always told him to keep his enemies closest, “And I uh…could you stay?”

“I’ll stay in the opposite wing of the house while your friends are here,”

“And if I get you a list of the ingredients I need for the spell…”

“I’ll get them for you,” Derek said. Stiles stared at him and _believed_ him. All the presents and the concern. Within the space of one conversation Stiles had begun to trust in Derek’s intentions of it all. It were as though he were looking at an entirely different man.

“You’re not just doing this because Gerard wants you to find out about me and my kind?” Stiles asked and his eyes skirted over Derek’s every twitch of expression to find something that would give him cause to distrust this offer.

“No,” Derek said firmly, shaking his head.

“Why do I believe you?” Stiles said under his breath and in a moment Derek caught his eye.

“The bond we have,” He said quickly, “You can tell I’m being honest with you. Gerard is doing this with the end in mind for both of us,”

“But you take that mixture Morrell makes for you,” Stiles nodded to him and tried not to let a scowl appear on his features. He couldn’t fully articulate how much he disliked hat potion and everything it stood for; in as much as a potion could stand for the sorry state of affairs they were in.

“It’s not going to work for much longer,” Derek wrung his hands together in his lap and returned his gaze to the floor.

“What?”

“I feel more of you each day, one of the reasons you think you trust me is probably because of that too,”

“I can’t feel you,” Stiles said plainly. He’d tried pushing feelings towards Derek multiple times since Derek had mentioned the bond being weakened in the hopes of a reaction. If Derek had noticed he certainly hadn’t reacted.

“I doubt it’ll be long before you do,” Derek muttered, .


	12. I've got you

“Something’s bothering you,” Stiles said in lieu of a greeting as he dropped into the chair beside Derek at the table in the library. When Derek didn’t look up from the letters he was reading Stiles nudged his chair with his foot. “I know you haven’t slept in two days. What is it?” Stiles asked again and Derek glanced up to him and sighed.

“You,” Derek grumbled.

“Really, cause you’re the one who decided that me going outside was a risk to my longevity,” Stiles said as he scuffed his foot on the rug at his feet.

 

“And the Argents are plotting how to get rid of us both. You seem to want to make it easy for them,” Derek said and his eyes darted up to Stiles briefly and then back down to the desk.

“Everyone in this world wants to kill me,” Stiles said with a shrug, “Doesn’t explain why you’ve been down in the dumps,” He said and leant forwards to nudge Derek’s shoulder. 

“The bond is like static in my head and your emotions flick up and down so frequently it makes me nauseous,” Derek said and even though his words were tired and without malice Stiles felt them like an impact.

“If it were a proper bond I’d be able to balance that out for you,” Stiles countered and he scuffed his foot more harshly against the carpet. From the corner of his eye Stiles saw Derek glance down and scowl.

“It’s not a proper bond,” Derek said solemnly.

“If you weren’t still taking that potion,-”

“Stiles,-” Derek started, but was interrupted as the door flew open.

“Lunch time, dog breath,” Erica shouted as she walked in with a tray and two plates. Stiles pushed away from the desk to meet her by the table closer to the door.

“That’s not how you address a Lord,”

“You’re not a Lord,”

“Derek is,” Stiles nodded to him and Erica’s eyes followed.

“Crap, I’ll grab another plate,”

“Don’t bother, I’m not hungry,” Derek said and glanced up to Erica, “and you’d have known I was here if you listened to your senses more often,”

“Don’t you have to built up your strength in advance of howling at the moon and chasing rabbits?” Stiles asked as he picked at the food on the plate

“We call to each other, we don’t howl at the moon,” Derek muttered.

“But you do chase rabbits,” Stiles said with a grimace.

“Nothing like a bit of still squirming rabbit to whet your appetite,” Stiles flinched as Erica growled in his ear.

“She shouldn’t be allowed to be a werewolf. Can you take it back?” Stiles asked with a whine.

“Would that I could,” Derek muttered.

“Come on,” Stiles crossed back to Derek and with some effort pulled him from his chair, “Sit with us and eat something. You need a break,” Stiles ushered Derek up from his desk and when he stood and took a step away Stiles glanced down over the papers that littered the desk. “What’s so desperate anyway?” He asked as he snatched the stack of letters from under Derek’s gaze. 

“Stiles put them down,” Derek attempted to snatch them back but Stiles stepped back and moved so that an armchair was between them both. “They’re not light reading,” Derek warned him. Stiles’ gaze skirted over the top two sheets and felt his stomach drop.

 

“Stiles give them back,” Derek said, his voice low.

“The Argents are going to execute us. Publicly,” His eyes shot up to meet Derek’s and behind him Erica gasped and stilled.

“It might be bad intelligence; misinformation or planted to put us on edge and Gerard an excuse to punish me,”

“You don’t believe that,” He said, his eyes narrowed as he took in Derek; his fist at his sides, his other hand extended, still hoping Stiles would return the letters and his tired eyes that proved he’d seen this coming.

“I don’t know what to believe,” Derek said, “At the very least I have to come up with a plan in case in case it does prove true,” His shoudlers stayed tense and his fists were clenched at his sides.

“You should have told me,” Stiles said

“What good would that have done?” Derek asked.

“Do you have a plan?”

“I’m working on it,” Derek said. Stiles scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“So no,” Stiles said unconvinced, “Do you know anything about this?” He asked, directing his words to Erica who shook her head. Her eyes were still wide and her face had paled. 

“Derek. What’s going to happen?” Erica asked.

Derek reached to the papers on his desk and extracted a letter. The paper was etched in gold and tiny inked flowers. It would have been pleasant if not for the Argent crest on the header.

“We’ve been invited to bonding celebration, in our honour,” He said as he handed it over, “It’s a trick or a trap, but we have to go,”

“It’s to embarrass you too isn’t it. Show you off under their control and discredit you,”

“I know,” Derek said and nodded.

 

“How long have we got?” Stiles asked. His stomach churned and he was reluctant to read any further for himself though he knew he’d have to.

“Two weeks,” Derek said.

“But next week is the full moon,” Stiles said as he pulled back sharply and his eyes darted between the letter in his hand and Derek. He’d be trying to contact his family. Could he consider contacting them to tell them he was alive if only a week later he’d be dead. Would he be encouraging them to look for him only to find a dead body in a ditch or on a pike somewhere. His breath quickened and 

“Which means we have an excuse to start evacuating the staff without raising suspicion,”

“That’s not what I…” Stiles started, his voice strained and Derek cut him off before his thoughts could continue to get away from him.

“I know Stiles,” Derek said calmly. Stiles sucked in a deep breath and his chests shuddered as he let it out.

 

“Okay, okay. What if we evacuate staff who are Argent informants?” Stiles asked.

“Primarily we’ll advise the supernaturals on the estate to up their guard. Then someone should wait behind to evacuate the staff if the worse does happen,” Derek explained.

“I’ll stay,” Erica said, finally speaking up. Stiles and Derek both turned back to her and Stiles suddenly realised how small she had made herself look. 

“Are you sure?” Derek asked.

“Yes, you’ll take Boyd with you,” She said, “He’s a fast rider. If anything goes wrong he can get you out of there,” Derek nodded and crossed the room towards her. He reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. “He can get back here quicker too,” She said quietly and Stiles thought he heard a catch in her voice “If anything goes wrong,”

“What do you know about the house?” Stiles asked getting Derek’s attention again.

“I’ve been there before,” Derek nodded, “It’s _affectionately_ called the Grande,”

“How humble of them,” Stiles drawled and he stepped back towards Derek’s desk

“I’d never accuse The Sect of being humble,” Derek said insincerely, “The Grande is short for le tout-puissante grande,” Derek explained. 

“Oh I know this one, the big - shove? No, uh,” Stiles started as he filtered through a hundred different languages. Nothing sounded appropriate. “I guess my languages are rusty,”

“The Great Almighty,” Derek said

“Oh, bit of a pretentious name for a building,” Stiles asked with a cringing expression.

“I’m sure the Sect have their reasons, mostly money. They’re strong supporters of Gerard,”

“Every Leader like to know a higher power has their back,” Stiles hummed as Erica stepped around him and steadied the letters in his hands to read them herself.

“Like Derek has yours,” Erica said.

“What?” Stiles asked, his head rising to look up at her.

“You wouldn’t pull half the crap you do, if you didn’t know he’d let you get away with it,” Erica said.

“But he isn’t omnipotent,” Stiles countered and behind him he felt Derek step in.

“That you know of,” Derek said, humour in his voice.

“Hey, I know enough about werewolves that _that_ isn’t true,” Her turned in towards Erica and looked back over his shoulder as he spoke.

“You’re smart but you don’t know everything,” Derek, his voice low.

“Aw Derek. That’s almost a compliment,” Stiles said with a smile.

“And you’re almost human so you’re definitely smart by those standards,” Erica said.

“Well at least I’m not almost funny,”

“You’re funny,” Derek agreed, “But only to look at,”

Stiles looked back across the papers and letters and mentally made a list of all the information he wished he had.

“You said you’ve been here before?” Stiles said.

“Yes,” Derek said with a nod, “It’s Chris Argent’s home, Alison’s father,”

“Can you draw a floor plan? Exits and where they’re likely to keep guests. And a map of the area around it. The other properties the roads and where Gerard may keep his men in reserve,” Stiles asked and when he glanced back up to both of his company they stared back. Their expressions curious and vaguely surprised. “What? I can do plans. I’m the planner, you’re the muscle,” He tapped Derek’s upper arm with the back of his hand, “Play to our strengths, yes?”

“Can you fetch us some paper Erica, and those maps if you can find them,” Derek asked . Erica nodded and left quickly. When the door had shut behind her Derek turned back to Stiles who was leafing through the rest of Derek’s papers. “I take it you have a plan,”

“I’m actually pretty good with plans, you can ask Scott,” Stiles said.

“How are you preparations for the full moon?” Derek asked

“Isaac brought the last of the ingredients I need from Margery,” Stiles said. Margery was a witch on the grounds that Derek had suggested. “I can’t feel what works and what doesn’t though. I’ve got sparks maybe once in every dozen tries,”

 

Erica returned with the maps and the paper and as Derek worked on drawing the house and grounds layout from memory, Stiles and Erica worked on the maps of the local area and if they were to need an escape, what they could use to their advantage.

“Okay, I think this is most of what I remember,” Derek said and passed the floorplan to Stiles. The lines were sketchy but the rooms were labelled, the ground and first floor and then the stairs that led to a further two floors that Derek had never been up. The chapel building was half the size of the house again and connected via a covered walkway through the gardens.

“Okay, so where will they be likely to crowd us all in?” He asked as he set the map down flat across the table and across the map Erica was using.

“This is the foyer where we’ll be greeted by Lord and Lady Argent. Alison will probably be here too,” Derek explained as he pointed to the entrance hall on the map. 

“Why would they bother greeting up formally if they are only planning to show us up?” Stiles asked.

“Propriety,” Derek shrugged, “Technically I still have my title as Lord,”

“Chris Argent doesn’t like associating with Gerard, which means Alison hasn’t been indoctrinated yet,” Derek said and Erica nodded in agreement.

“Gerard’s forcing their hand too,” Erica added.

“Probably,” Derek agreed, “He’ll want to involve Alison more closely if only to spite Chris for distancing himself from Gerard’s campaign,” He explained and then a look of scepticism crossed his face, “Lady Argent is fiercely protective of her family so she wouldn’t host this event willingly,”

“Okay, so she’s the dangerous one,” Stiles nodded and made a note.

“If Gerard makes trouble for us, she’s the one who’ll lash out,”

“Alison knows us,” Stiles said and then realised such a relationship held no true weight, “It’s not enough is it,”

“The show will be for her too. To turn her opinion,” Derek said. Stiles nodded and turned back to the outline. 

“What’ll happen after we meet and greet?” Stiles asked

“We’ll probably move to here,” Derek point to an adjoining room on the map, “It’s large enough for a sizeable party, small enough to appear select and induce conversation,” Derek then pointed to the next room along, “Also it’s right off the dining room,” Derek paused and pulled back for them map as Stiles scribble further notes on the sheet of paper he was working on, “I don’t know which bedroom they’ll assign us but it probably won’t be on the main landing,”

“We’re staying the night?” Stiles sat up quickly and nearly headbutted Derek’s chin.

“After two days travelling, Yes we’ll be staying the night,”

“Travelling how?” Stiles asked

“Carriage. Boyd will head the guard around us and Erica will stay here,”

“I don’t like horses,”

“Tough,”

“Is this the chapel?” Stiles asked as he squinted to read Derek’s small writing, “Blessing ceremony will be there right?”

“Blessing, insults, embarrassment, possible maiming,” Erica drawled.

“I can’t wait,” Stiles muttered. 

“The blessing ceremony will be preferable to whatever they’ve actually got planned,” Derek said solemnly.

“What’ll happen if we endure it,” Stiles asked, looking up at Derek and holding his gaze.

“We might just make it out and home in one piece,” Derek said. Stiles offered him a small smile and Derek returned. For one brief moment returning home in one piece seemed possible. 

When Stiles next looked up Derek was asleep, his head rested on his hand and the pen from his other hand had dropped to the table. Stiles stretched his hands up above his head and groaned. He stood and circled past Derek and picked up the bottle of bond suppressant Derek had left on an upper shelf of his desk. As he picked it up the liquid swirled and Stiles squinted as the colour caught the light.

“Does that look different to you?” Stiles asked, holding up the small bottle to the light. “What is it supposed to be?” Erica asked without looking up. “Derek’s bond suppressant,” “You shouldn't have that,” She said looking up quickly. She reached for it but Stiles kept it out of her grasp. “I know, but look at it,” Stiles waved it at her again. “When he took this before it was a much darker blue colour. Now it's practically grey,” “Maybe they upped the dose,” Erica shrugged. Her blinks were long and Stiles could see how tired she was in every slow movement. “But Derek’s feeling it more, the bond,” Stiles said. “Talk to Derek, or Morrell when she next delivers it,” Erica said and turned back to the map she was examining. “Malia brought the last four,” Stiles corrected her. “Then talk to her,” Erica snapped and held her hand out again,“Now give that here before you spill it,” “Something wrong.” Stiles insisted, “I can feel it,” “You can’t feel anything,” Erica said harshly, “That’s the reason they stuck you and Derek with the bond in the first place,”

“What if the Argent’s are interfering with it? What if they’re poisoning him?”

“I don’t know Stiles. How many more things do you want me to worry about?” Erica snapped. Stiles turned on his heel and set the vial down on the desk where he’d found it. He needed a better distraction than this. The room was sending him mad and he needed a break. Erica didn’t look up as he left and Derek slept on. Five days later and the staff were beginning to clear out from the house. From the morning Stiles had locked himself in the library and begun to mix the ingredients he needed for the spell. In the quiet hours of the morning he’d told Derek he wouldn’t be inviting Scott and Lydia,but that he planned to only send a message his family. He was going to tell them to stay away. He’d run through the words in his head like a mantra. They couldn’t come and risk their lives here. Stiles couldn’t risk them.

Three steady knocks came from the door and Stiles startled and the petals he was weighing slipped from his grip. He set the remaining bag down and stood to answer the door. When he opened in a crack Derek stood on the other side.

“Do you have a minute?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded and Derek waved a hand toward the room, “Inside?”

“It’s your house,” Stiles shrugged and backed into the room as he opened the door further. Derek shut the door carefully behind him. “I’m kind of in the middle of things though and I’m probably going to lose track of what I’ve measured,”

“I won’t take long,” Derek said. He leant back against the side of the armchair and kept his eyes on Stiles.

“Even so, i’m jumping all over the place with everything that’s going on. I need to finished this now, but I can listen and work,” Stiles dropped cross legged to the floor where he’d laid out all of his materials, “Probably,” He shot Derek a grin and returned his attention to his set of scales.

“You were right,” Derek said.

“You can say that again,” Stiles said assuredly and then glanced up and frowned at Derek’s concerned expression, “About what?” “Malia has been swapping out the potion. She doesn’t think it’s right to quash the bond,” Derek said, “I’ll have to inform Morrell,” He ducked his head and Stiles watched him for a moment. He hadn’t brought it up with Derek in all the commotion of planning for the Argent’s, which meant that Erica had brought it up with him. Erica trusted his judgement and concerns. And Derek trusted them. He bit his bottom lip and kept his eyes on the measuring scale until the scale balanced. When he looked up Derek was perched on the arm of an armchair, his gaze vacant and down to the floor just in front of Stiles. 

“Derek?” He asked. His voice seemed to snap Derek from his reverie. “Hmm,” “Are you going to start taking it again if Morrell makes sure it’s right?” Stiles asked quietly. Derek’s expression flit between concern and fear, confusion and fear. “I-,” Derek started and Stiles ducked his head down and tried to concentrate on weighing out the spell ingredients. “I don’t know,” Derek said finally.

“You must know,” Stiles said, “Whether you want to have a connection to me or not,” “The potion doesn’t affect my feelings Stiles,” Derek replied and the tight ball of tension in Stiles’ chest suddenly became fragile. “It affects the ones manufactured by the spell bond,” Stiles burst out and nearly knocked the measuring bowl from it’s stand, “Malia’s right. Bonds are sacred and…” Stiles said and then paused and got frustrated as his words escaped him, “And I don’t hate you,” He said quickly.

 

“I don’t want the bond,”Derek said and Stiles willed futilely that his eyes wouldn’t begin to water, “But that’s because the bond is all part of the trap keeping you here, away from your family and friends, away from your magic. ” “Wills,” Stiles corrected stubbornly. “Wills,” Derek corrected himself, “But that doesn’t stop me from waking up early each day so I can be awake for as you wake up. I’ve changed my diet, my routine is now chaos and I’ve happily given up my only sanctuary in this entire house to you,” Derek sighed and leant heavily against the chair, “I haven’t done that because of the bond. I’ve done that because I wish I could do more,” 

“Don’t take the bond suppressant,” Stiles said as he wiped the tears from his eyes quickly, “We might need it, y’know. If we’re walking into Argent’s territory we need all the advantages we can get,”

“If you’re not used to it by the time we have to leave, it could be more of a distraction,” Derek said cautiously.

“Have a little faith,” Stiles said and half a grin pulled at his mouth as he looked up at Derek quickly before he determinedly stared down at the scales and ingredients he was measuring.

“I can still feel your emotions Stiles,” Derek said after a few minutes and Stiles’ thoughts were still running away with him and he’d had to remeasure several of the dried ingredients when he couldn’t remember whether he’d mixed up their correct quantities.

“And i’m sure it’s giving you great insight,” He said distractedly.

“What if your feelings aren’t true because of the bond?” Derek said.

“Well i’m pretty convinced of them for now,” He said as he tipped the petals into teh make-shift pestle and mortar he’d stolen from the kitchen, “‘Sides we’re not getting rid of the bond completely. Til death do us part, right?”

“You want something to come of this,” Derek said. 

“Yeah. Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” Stiles said as he determinedly kept his eyes on measuring a fine yellow powder, “All the great fairy tales have bonded couples. Your other half, a support, a feeling of completeness. It’s never sounded too bad,” He shrugged and rechecked his balanced scales, “And werewolves dream of finding a bondmate right?”

“A manufactured love and bond wouldn’t be real,” Derek said. 

“Maybe we wouldn’t know that. If it felt the same,” Stiles glanced up hopefully to see Derek watching him with a blank expression. Stiles tore his eyes away and took a deep breath. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears.

“Why would you want to live a lie? Second guessing everything you feel for a person?”

“I already second guess everything. Bond means you couldn’t hurt me,” Stiles said, “Wanna try loving me Der?” Stiles asked lightly but even as he spoke his chest was tight. He couldn’t bring himself to look up at Derek; a fear of seeing a condemnation of Stiles’ desperation.

“I’m already finding it difficult not to,” Derek said quietly and Stiles looked up quickly. He couldn’t find the words to ask and yet Derek nodded and his expression was as desperately sincere and raw as Stiles felt. 

 

“How goes your spell?” Derek asked.

“I’ve got no idea,” Stiles tore his gaze away and scowled at the ingredients scattered in bowls around him, “If my message gets through they might not be able to interpret it or it might have go to the wrong place.If they think i’m dead and then Scotty hears my voice they might think he’s losing it and put him on bedrest,” Stiles had already considered a hundred more scenarios, all of which meant they wouldn’t receive his message, “Time works differently for us too,”

“I’m sure you’ve done your best, Stiles,” Derek said reassuringly 

“I just want them to know-, know I’m okay,” Stiles said and a hitch caught in his breath and on his words. Stiles looked up as he heard Derek stand and step towards him. Derek dropped to his knees in front of Stiles and somehow managed to avoid knocking any of the ingredients from their places as he pulled Stiles in towards him. Stiles allowed himself to be gathered up in Derek’s arm and dropped his head to Derek’s shoulder as they circled each other in their arms. 

“Do you want to go out on the grounds?” Derek asked after some time had passed and Stiles was relishing in the warmth of his current disposition, his thoughts only flitting back periodically to their more anxious roots.

“I want to run,” He said as he pulled away, “Round the grounds or round the corridors, I don’t care. I just feel like i’m vibration with, anticipation or, i’d say wills but…” Stiles said. Derek nodded and stood.

“Let’s go then,” Derek offered his hand down to Stiles and pulled him up to his feet, “If you fall over i’m not catching you,”

“I really don’t fall over that often,” Stiles said and then as he stepped over a stack of books he’d left at the corner of the sofa his toes caught the top one and he stumbled forwards. He caught himself hastily on the back of the sofa and glared back at Derek who was attempting to contain a smirk. “How do you do that?”

“I didn’t. You left those there,” Derek said as he pushed the books to one side with his toe.

“I know, but you say don’t do something, you’ll get hurt, and then I do it and hurt myself,” He narrowed his eyes at Derek, “Are you sure you’re just a werewolf?”

 

Derek headed out through the gardens, past the lawns and the stream and soon they were in thick woodland where only thin paths led between the tree. The dusk light filtered down through the trees and cast an orange and mauve hue across the foliage. Stiles ran his hand along the bark of a silver birch and ducked under a low hanging spiky branch of an old hawthorne tree.

“Do you actually howl?” Stiles asked, “Or are you going to glower at me for asking the question?” He looked over to Derek just in time to see him tip his head back and let out a deafening howl.

“I guess everyone knows where you are then,” Stiles said as Derek glanced back at him with a smile.

“They should be able to find me anyway, pack instincts,” Derek said. In the distance Stiles heard a returning howl, “That’s Isaac,”

“Didn’t think he had the voice for it,” Stiles mused.

“Wait for it and Erica and Boyd might return the call too,”

“Now Erica defintely has the voice for it,”

“You wanted to run,” Derek asked, raising an eyebrow and nodding deeper into the forest. 

“Yes.” Stiles said with a nod and immediately quickened his step. His every step naturally found the gaps between furrows and fallen logs, he didn’t stumble and he didn’t look down. He could hear Derek keeping pace with him easily.

He darted left and shoved his full body weight into Derek and forced him to stumble to the side with a grunt. Stiles bounced back to his feet and took off at speed again with a laugh. He daren’t look back as he heard a rustle of undergrowth behind him and his heartbeat quickened. He could imagine Scott at his side and Danny and Jackson somewhere nearby in the trees as he jumped for a low branch and swung himself a few feet further. Up ahead on his right a shape moved through the trees and Stiles cut left and stopped suddenly behind a tree and quickly climbed up through its lower branches to wait for the shape to move closer. The surrounding trees and their branches cut off his line of vision but he was sure the shape had been heading his way. 

He leant forwards as carefully as he could on the branch he was perched on to duck down further in an attempt to get a better view.

“Why are we up a tree?” Stiles startled and his eyes shot up to several branches higher up the tree, to Derek looking down at him, an amused smirk on his face. In a split second he yelled and kicked his legs out to swing over the branch backwards, caught ahold of a branch further down and swung to the ground. Above him he heard Derek call out his name but he didn’t pause in his pace as he started running again. 

“You’re a tricky demon aren’t you,” Stiles looked to try and trace Isaac’s voice when he was caught off guard. Isaac slid across in front of him and Stiles’ foot caught the top of Isaac’s leg. He tripped and rolled through the ferns. He felt a sharp pain down his arm and when he tried to push himself up again his ankle twisted beneath him on some old wet leaves. 

“You give up?” Stiles looked up to see Isaac stood a couple of feet away and Derek a few metres behind him.

“Oh crap,” 

“That doesn’t sound like a surrender,” Isaac said and a grin spread across his face.

“That’s because it’s not!” Stiles shouted and pushed himself up despite his body’s protests and threw himself at Isaac. Isaac was expecting an attack not a grapple and though he was clearly stronger, when Stiles twisted and threw them both towards the ground Isaac was unprepared and they both tumbled to the ground. Stiles scrambled for purchase to push himself up but Isaac’s nails dug into his arm and his side. Stiles grabbed for a stick and pushed the end into the dip of Isaac’s collarbone and neck and with a yelp Isaac released him and Stiles sprung to his feet. 

“You okay?” Stiles asked as he stepped backwards lightly, careful to keep out of Isaac’s reach.

“Yeah, yeah i’m good,”

“Good,” Stiles turned sharply to start running again and a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. He twisted to see Derek stood behind him.

“Not that way,”

“Why?” He asked, wanting now to run in that direction specifically.

“Erica and Boyd are coming in from that direction,” Derek nodded through the trees and Stiles took a step back towards him as Isaac pulled himself to his feet.

“I’m not being bait. Four against one is unfair,” Stiles said with a finger pointed in Derek’s face and then turned to Isaac, “Some people can’t keep their claws to themselves,” Stiles shot an unimpressed look Isaac. Mud and leaves smeared his face and clothes and he was rubbing a hand through his hair.

“You’re not exactly spotless yourself,” Derek said.

“I don’t like people getting the better of me,”

“You didn’t win. We were going easy on you,” Isaac protested.

“Somebody sounds like a sore loser,” Stiles said. He rolled his eyes and smiled back sweetly at Isaac. Isaac who lunged for him and Derek pulled Stiles back out of the way with an arm around his waist. “You realise I can defend myself right,” Stiles said as he pulled himself out of Derek’s grip.

“Can I test that?” Stiles turned on his heel as Erica stepped from the shadows, her eyes glinting and her teeth bared.

“No,” Derek said firmly as Stiles couldn’t help but back into him as Erica stalked forwards towards him.

“I’d like to see that,” Boyd added as he followed Erica out into the clearing.

“Me too,” Isaac added.

“It’s not the full moon yet, none of you should be getting ‘ _eat Stiles_ ’ impulses,” Stiles protested as DErek felt like a brick wall behind him. Hemming him in rather than offering him protection.

“I don’t want to _eat_ you,” Erica said sweetly.

“Yeah, might catch something,” Boyd muttered as he circled round and elbowed Isaac and nodded to Isaac’s cut but healing shoulder. Isaac nodded but shrugged off his concern. 

“Are we running or are we intimidating Stiles?” Derek asked.

“I know which one I’d rather,” Erica said as she narrowed her eyes on Stiles.

“Can he even keep up with us?” Boyd asked skeptically.

“If you get bored you can always run circles around him,” Derek shrugged and turned away from the group, “I didn’t actually invite you out,”

“We know,” Erica said as she matched pace with Derek and Boyd followed on her tail.

“You coming?” Isaac asked as the rest of the pack took off after Derek.

“Hey, can any of you actually turn into wolves?” Stiles asked as he pushed off

“He doesn’t even shut up when he’s running,” Boyd muttered and sped up his pace to keep on Derek’s right. Isaac fell into step beside Stiles and kept by his side as Stiles darted between trees and from rock to rock over the stream furrows that criss crossed through the maple trees. 

 

They ran until it became to dark for Stiles to see when he was about to run into a tree. Isaac took great pleasure in shoving Stiles to one side with his full body weight and claimed he was only trying to help. Stiles didn’t believe him for a second. Erica made him say thank you.

The rush of running with other people was euphoric, playing with a family, a pack. Derek went to get them something to drink and Stiles returned to the library. The fire burnt low as Stiles knelt at the fireplace and took a pinch of the mix from the mortar and threw it into the burning embers. He shut his eyes and muttered the words of incantation from memory as he pictured the faces of his Dad and Scott and Lydia, Jackson and Danny, Alicia and Teddy, Melissa and Deaton. A crackle from the fire had his eyes shoot open but he was too late to see the spark.

“This had better work,” He muttered as he pinched another mix of the ingredients and threw it into the fire, “I should probably say to whoever’s listening, if anyone is, this spell may have gone wrong but, it’s Stiles, Stiles Stilinski. He threw another pinch into the fire. “And I’m not dead, not yet anyway. Oh crap I hope this has gotten through to one of you, Dad i’m so sorry. I miss you so much. I had a plan for what I was going to tell you as well. I can’t come home and you can’t come looking for me. It’s not safe and you have to trust me on that. I’m safe for the moment, got myself some reluctant allies too. Told you my charm was unmatched. I’m not sure if this has worked but i’m almost out of ingredients now and i don’t know when i’ll be able to get them again, So goodbye. I love you,” He threw the final pinch into the fire and muttered the closing spell. The fire’s orange glow faded and a thin trail of smoke drifted up from the ashes.

A knock came from the door and when Stiles looked up Derek stepped inside, two mugs in his hands. Stiles scrambled to his feet, knocking over the mortar with his foot and crossing the room to Derek as he set the mugs down on the table.

“This might be a bit sweet for your tastes but it’ll definitely warm you up. Have you been burning wolfsbane?” Derek said and as he turned Stiles slid his arms around Derek’s waist and buried his head in the crook of Derek’s neck. “Whoa, hey what’s wrong?” Derek’s hands came up and circled Stiles firmly and squeezed him tight. “I’ve got you, Stiles. I’ve got you,”


	13. Implicit Trust

The house was too quiet over the days that the staff had cleared out and the pack had left to change and run on the grounds. Stiles found that he could neither sit still and concentrate, nor be content with walking around the house distractly. He half considered wander out to try and find the pack but the thought of them tearing into deer and rabbits made him shudder and his stomach turn. He ended up in one of the bright sitting rooms. The windows were huge and sunlight lit up every gold and polished surface. 

Stiles opened the windows as far as he could and breathed deeply as the fresh air was drawn in past the narrow stone balcony. Derek didn’t want him stepping outside so he remained back from the window as he dug his toes into the thick carpet. He turned and stepped lightly over the the fruit bowl and picked at each of the fruits but nothing caught his fancy. His eyes skipped over the the paintings adorning the walls and he wondered who these people were. 

Every picture Derek had in here had little insignias or innocuous depictions of something supernatural, things that would be overlooked by uneducated humans. He shoved a chair up against he wall and stood on it to reach to press his fingers to the faint changeling ring that had been painted in the background of a young Duke’s full length portrait.

His attention was broken by a loud unfamiliar bird shriek outside and Stiles turned to hear it’s call more clearly and nearly overbalanced the chair. He jumped down but the call stopped. He stepped back towards the window and across the gardens he saw a blur of movement. A blur that looked human. He froze and back away from sight.

His eyes darted around the room for something he could use to defend himself, a jousting sword on the wall, a table leg or a door stop. None seemed practical given the circumstances. 

He threw open the doors of the cupboards and besides some plate sets and some papers there was nothing of note. He could try running to another area of the house. He could lock the doors to the library but then they’d know something was suspicious and break the door down. He could try the kitchen but it was a long way off even if it was full of weapons and defenses he could use, but there was no telling who he’d meet in the corridors. They could be circling the house, they could already be in the house. 

Finally Stiles’ eyes fell on what could be his lifesaver. A long thin stick, sturdy with a block on the end. He glanced up to the portraits and knew he’d seen something similar before. A mallet used for a lawn game of the upper classes. Derek had explained it but he couldn’t remember much. It didn’t matter. He had a weapon. 

 

Stiles shut the doors and glanced back towards the window and then slowly crept back to the edge of the window. He peered down into the gardens again from the cover of the curtains. He couldn’t see anyone and the light breeze moved the bushes enough to cover any irregular movement. He took another step to look further and a dark shape appeared in the open balcony.

Stiles yelled as he leapt at the intruder and the intruder immediately began yelling in just the same way. They toppled back and Stiles caught sight of a familiar face and mop of hair as the intruder caught them both from falling towards the edge of the balcony. “Scott!”

Stiles scrambled back and pulled Scott back up to his feet. 

“Why the hell do you have a bat! Are you alright?”Scott asked quickly

“It’s a mallet,” Stiles said, “What are you doing here?”

“Dude,” Scott laughed and threw himself forwards and encompassed Stiles in a bone crunching hug. The mallet fell from his hands and he felt tears begin to fall in streams down his cheeks. “Where did the wills take you?”

“Is my dad okay?” Stiles whispered as he hugged back as tightly as he could, “Is he safe?”. 

“He’s fine. Better now we know you’re alive,” He pulled away but kept his hands on Stiles’ shoulders, “I still can’t feel you, even though you’re right in front of me,” Scott said. 

“He’s bound,”

“Lyds,” He sighed as he looked over Scott’s shoulder and Lydia stepped from the balcony, her red hair shining in the sunlight. He felt his chest tighten at her sad smile, You look beautiful Lyds,”

“You look a mess,” She said as she took him in her arms and held him just as tightly as Scott had.

“We can take you home now,” Scott said “Fix you,” Stiles felt his hand land on his shoulder. Stiles hesitated and glanced between his two friends. 

“What?” Scott started.

“Stiles if you don’t tell me absolutely everything,” Lydia warned.

“I will. I’m just so glad to see you,” Stiles said and his voice caught mid sentence.

“Have they been treating you okay?” Scott asked.

“Depends on the who,” Stiles shrugged and wiped the last of the tears from his face haphazardly.

“Well someone’s been keeping you well fed,” Lydia poked at his side and raised an eyebrow.

“That’d be the guy i’m bonded to,” Stiles said. Scott’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and Lydia looked vaguely concerned.

“And who’s not?” She asked.

“Argents. Specifically Kate who carved poetry into my back,”

“What! Are you okay-,”Scott started but was cut off when Lydia raised her hand.

“Scott shut up, Stiles, who’s outside this room?”

“Shouldn’t be anyone. The wolves are out on a run,” Stiles told them, his eyes darted to the door and he strained to hear .

“Wolves?” Scott asked.

“Be quiet and keep out of sight,” Stiles hissed and shoved them away from the door

“Who’s more capable of looking after who here?” Lydia asked as she waved off his warning dismissively.

“You can’t be here,” Stiles insisted. 

“You _shouldn’t_ be here,” Scott said.

“Shut up Stiles!” Lydia hissed as she shoved him back behind both her and Scott and readied herself for whoever was approaching the room. Stiles’ stomach rolled as he heard the heavy footsteps approaching the room. He couldn’t help but hold his breath as the handle turned and the door swung open.

 

Scott threw himself at the new intruder and Stiles barely had time to breathe before Derek let out a roar and he and Scott were caught in a battle of wills.

“Whoa, Whoa Scott he’s my mate! He’s not a threat,” Stiles shot forwards shoving his way past Lydia to pull at Scott’s arm and then place himself between Scott and Derek. 

“You said wolf, not werewolf,” Scott protested but he pulled away. 

“You didn’t exactly give me time to explain,” Stiles said as he pushed Scott back and set his back to Derek.

“Stiles, he doesn’t look so good,” Lydia said carefully as she stepped forward and nodded to Derek. 

“Well that’s a matter of opinion,” Stiles countered lightly but he turned and took in the sight of Derek. He recognised his beta-form from what Derek had told him about werewolf transformations but he was doubled over and leaning heavily against the wall. 

“Stiles, his leg,” Lydia said.

“Oh crap,” Stiles turned Derek by his shoulders and forced Derek to look up at him, “Derek what happened?”

“‘S Wolfsbane, Kate left traps on the grounds,” He helped steady Derek until they reached the chair where Derek quickly became a dead weight and collapsed against the seat.

“Scott can you extract the poison?” Stiles asked, his eyes wide as he looked to his friend.

“We’re here to get you out of here,” Scott insisted as he eyes Derek warily.

“And I’m telling you I can’t go,” Stiles yelled and he felt his hand slip into Derek’s at his side, “Scott please,”

“Stiles, I’ll be fine,” Derek muttered, “I just need to-,”

“Shut up Derek,” Lydia snapped, “Scott, heal the alpha werewolf,”

“Alpha!” Scott pulled a face and shot her a look.

“Oh use your senses,” 

“Don’t bite him, “ Stiles said as he dropped a hand to Derek’s shoulder. As Scott stepped up beside him Stiles patted Derek on the arm twice and allowed himself to be led away by Lydia. “Thanks for coming Lyds,” Stiles said quietly.

“Even though you didn’t want us here,” She asked 

“Derek will die if I go home,” Stiles said, his voice was lowered though everyone in the room would have been able to ear him if they’d He and his pack have been trying to protect me. His sisters are under threat if he messes up,”

“You can’t fix the whole world,” Lydia said softly. Her words were consoling and harsh and Stiles bristled against their implication that he were to dismiss the pain he was bound to cause.

“We can help _them_ can’t we?” Stiles asked as he looked back at her imploringly. 

“How?” Lydia snapped, “We’re not assassins for hire. We can’t go out on a vendetta cause you got forcibly bonded,”

“We could get them out, help them move,” Stiles suggested.

“We’re not moving,” Stiles turned to see Derek, with better colour in his cheeks attempting to hold tightly to arms of the chair in order to stay sitting upright, “Tell your friends to go, it’s not safe,”

“Hey, I just saved your life,” Scott started.

“And now I’m saving yours,” Derek snapped at him before looking back to Stiles and pushing himself to his feet, “Stiles, if Kate set traps it’s fifty-fifty whether she’s coming back to take advantage of our disposition,” Derek said as Scott kept close by his side.

“We have a certain skill for evasion,” Lydia said as she picked at her nails nonchalantly.

“Look, they’ll be gone by the time you get back from the run with your betas,” Stiles said, Derek eyed him skeptically, “Betas who will come back here early if they think you’re injured and there are strange scents on the grounds,” Derek furrowed his brow and kept his steady gaze trained on Stiles. “Go, we’ll be fine,”

“I don’t like it,” Derek grumbled.

“When you walked in here I could have dropped you out of the window with one hand tied behind my back,” Scott said and Derek’s eyes flicked from his to Lydia who shrugged one shoulder. 

“I wouldn’t have gotten my hands dirty,” She said dryly.

“Can we talk later?”Derek asked, his tone was private as he ducked his head down towards Stiles.

“Sure, now go round up the troublesome threesome,” Stiles said as he gently pushed Derek towards the door. 

“Be careful,” Derek said, his voice low as he turned back into Stiles, “Please,” Derek’s eyes darted over to Scott and Lydia briefly before they returned to Stiles. 

“If he stays we could get to know each other,” Lydia suggested. 

“Nope, bad idea. Definitely not happening,” Stiles shook his head.

“The betas will be back in a couple of hours,” Derek added as he stepped back towards the door.

“Perfect,” Stiles said, “Goodbye Derek,” Stiles watched Derek leave and felt his friend's step up to either side of him as the door shut behind him.

“Are you alright Stiles?” Lydia asked as she threaded her arm into Stiles’ and led him towards the cushioned seat.

“Yeah, yeah fine,” He said as he dropped his head to Lydia’s shoulder and smiled tiredly up at Scott. “Fine really,”

“You don’t feel fine,” Scott said with a frown as he dropped onto the armchair opposite them.

“Only cause you can’t feel _me_ ,” Stiles said, “The wills are escaping me right now but-,”

“Show my your back,” Lydia prodded him in the side and Stiles sighed and sat up so he could take his shirt off. 

“Oh Stiles,” Lydia said with as sigh.

“I know it’s not pretty but it’ll heal alright,” Stiles said.

“Lie down,” She stood from the sofa and waved him to lie stomach down. He obliged and pillowed his head on his hands. He stared across at Scott as Lydia pressed her hands his back and traced the lines of scars. The touch made him flinch as his mind tripped back to how they were made.

“Distract me Scotty,”

“With what?” He asked. Stiles shrugged and grimaced as the heat of Lydia’s spell made his skin tingle. It felt like it was pulled tight, “Hey, have you seen that guy since you’ve been stuck out here?”

“Guy?” Stiles said and frowned.

“The guy from the castle, with the sister and the energy?” Scott waved his hands through the air. Stiles couldn’t help but smile.

“That’s Derek,” Stiles said. It felt so long ago they’d played that game. 

“What?” Scott’s eyebrows shot up and he leaned in on the edge of his seat, “You mean you got bonded to the guy 

“Yeah,” He nodded and Lydia’s hand fell on his shoulder to keep him still.

“Huh, _I_ didn’t feel any energy in him,”

“He’s alright Scott,”

“Who did this Stiles?” Lydia asked quietly.

“Kate Argent, daughter of Gerard, the guy we robbed,” Stiles said.

“ _You_ robbed,” She corrected.

“I robbed,” He said and caw her roll her eyes from the corver of his vision.

“They did this because we robbed them?” Scott asked.

“She likes Gerard’s idea of collecting supernaturals, with the added bonus of torturing them,” Stiles explained, “She’s got a handful of werewolves and me as far as I know. Derek tries to keep other supernaturals out of her grasp, offers them a safe-ish haven here,”

“How, - noble,” Lydia said.

“How’s my dad? How’s everyone,” Stiles asked, changing the subject from the hideous scarring on his back. 

“Your dad has been keeping to himself, but my mum’s been keeping an eye on him,” Scott said with a small smile.

“Tell her thanks,” Stiles said as he returned it. Melissa had been family as longa s Scooty had been his best friend, his brother.

“The kids have been grieving worst,” Scott said and he tipped his head down, his eyes on the floor, “Alicia keeps getting excited when she learns something new and then she gets sad all of a sudden, like she remembers she can’t show you,”

“I’ve met her brother!” Stiles said, “He’s one of Derek’s beta’s,”

“You have all the adventures,” Scott grumbled and shared muted grin and a look with Stiles.

“That’s not a good thing,” Lydia scolded them both with a look and removed her touch from Stiles’ back, “You’re almost good as new,”

“Thanks Lyds,” He said as he pushed himself back up to a sitting position and Lydia sat beside him.

“Now we know you’re in one piece, we need to hear the problems,” Lydia said. “No, don’t give me that look Stiles. You need to talk this out and we need to know where we can begin to help you,” To Stiles it felt like the supports of the dam had recieved a fatal blow and hsi chest tightened as his mind raced through all the things that were wrong.

“I don’t know where to start,” He said and his voice broke, “All I want to do is go home, I’ve put my dad through thinking i’ve died again, but I can’t leave without the only guy whose been trying to keep me safe dying because werewolf life bonds are bug-eyed crazy,” Stiles said and he threw out his hand towards the door, “If I leave, I could die too, and what if the Argents are tracking me and I lead them back to you guys. I haven’t seen anyone use that sort of magic around me but that doesn’t mean I haven’t missed it. I can’t _feel_ it anymore,”

“Easy way to find out,” Lydia’s hand shot out and Stiles yelped as she ran a knife across the pad of his thumb. She wrapped it with a small white handkerchief and the red blood stained through the cloth. Lydia muttered a quick healing spell and the sting of the cut vanished by the time she removed the cloth.

“Deaton can find out if there’s anything else on you,” She said as she carefully wrapped the cloth in on itself and pocketed it.

“That hurt,” Stiles whined. 

“Baby,” She crooned.

“Queen Bee,”

“You’re right, I am overworked and in charge round here,” Lydia said. She tipped her chin higher and Scott rolled his eyes from across the room.

“Okay so you go find Deaton, I’m staying here,” Scott said.

“Scottie,” Stiles warned.

“I can’t just leave you here,”

“And if you’re here that’s just two of us in trouble. Do you think your mum would be able to lose you?” Stiles asked and he knew he’d tied Scott’s hands.

“Stiles!” Scott started, “Don’t use that!”

“I promised Derek.” Stiles said and Scott levelled him with a look; a look that said that wasn’t an excuse that held any weight. 

“Fine, but if I leave I’ll come back every day,” Scott promised.

“Great, so people know where you come through _and_ how to catch you,” Stiles snapped back, “Look, I might be able to get home eventually, but right now it’s not without putting people at risk,” Stiles said, “I could be puting myself at risk,” Scott pouted and sank into the seat. He fell silent 

“I really hope you know what you’re doing Stiles,” Lydia said quietly and she reached for his hand.

 

Stiles sat in the empty room and the pit of his stomach was consumed with loneliness. He hugged one of the cushions to his chest and told himself that by not involving his friends in surviving the Argent’s scheme they’d be safer. Lydia had told him they’d be back in a week and by then Stiles and Derek would be riding towards the Argent manor. He picked his nails absent mindedly at the threads of the sofa and even once he realised he’d pulled some free and loose he couldn’t make himself stop pulling at and damaging the fabric.

“Want some dinner?” Stiles startled and looked up to Derek was had appeared to one side of him. The door was open and Stiles could hear Erica talking to someone, presumably Boyd. She was raucous and at ease after her day letting loose.

“Ugh, what’s that smell?” Erica asked as she stepped inside, her cheeks were still flushed and her grin seemed unstoppable. She was closely followed by Boyd and Isaac, Boyd appeared to be carrying two bowls of food and Isaac carried his own.

“I was about to ask the same thing,” Stiles said as Erica dropped down in the seat opposite. Erica sneered and Boyd dropped down cross legged on the floor at her feet.

“Nothing to be concerned about,” Derek said as he passed the bowl of soup over to Stiles and sat beside him. Stiles rested the bowl on the cushion on his lap and leant in to Derek’s side. Derek froze beside him and Stiles glanced up cautiously.

“Sorry,” He muttered and began to lean away.

“No, no it’s fine,” Derek said quietly and Stiles shuffled closer and leant into the crook Derek’s arm. Derek swapped his spoon to his other hand and continued to eat in the now more awkward position.

“So what’ve you been up to anyway?” Erica asked through a mouth full of food.

“Not much, bit of reading I guess. I couldn’t really settle,” Stiles said and shrugged. It was half true. True enough that Erica didn’t cast a look of suspicion toward him.

“You should come with us,” Isaac suggested.

“You just want to use me as bait again,” Stiles said and he pointed his spoon at Isaac accusingly.

“Well, that’s not a bad thing,” Isaac said.

“Running and playing together builds pack bonds,” Boyd explained.

“Yeah and you’re pack now,” Erica said and then her eyes darted to Derek, “Right?”

“Of course,” Derek nodded

“Thanks,”

 

“You called me your mate earlier,”

“Uh, okay. If you say so,”

“When you were pulling your friend off me. I felt the bond shift between us. Do you feel anything more now?”

“Not that I’d noticed,” Stiles shrugged. He had noticed. The word had slipped from his mouth before he’d thought about what it meant and he’d hoped that Derek hadn’t noticed it at all. 

“Oh,” Derek dipped his head. Stiles caught his look and quickly pushed himself up so that he could sit back on his knees and face Derek.

“No wait, think of a colour,” Stiles said quickly. Derek levelled him with a pitying look. Stiles stared back and concentrated on Derek; All of Derek from the pull of each changing expression, the likes of his skin over bones and muscle and the way he held himself. The way he leant into Stiles when they were close and the way Derek dug the nails of one hand into the sofa cushion between them. Stiles couldn’t see the actions but he felt them as he stared back and met each other’s intense gaze. A colour seemed to come alive in his mind for a moment and then hover as the edge of consciousness as he tried to describe it before it vanished, “Brown, no copper. Wow what even is that?”

“That’s you,” Derek said quietly.

“Nope, brown is boring, I’m not brown,” Stiles said, “Wait, did I get that right?” He asked and Derek nodded.

“It’s your eyes,” Derek nodded towards him and Stiles blinked twice before he could answer.

“What?”

“The colour of your eyes-,”

“No, wait, think of something else. Not a colour,”

Derek watched him without saying a word and the the more Stiles mentally reached for the warm pressure at the back of his mind the more it seemed to unfurl, like a fern that had gone without water and had been curled in on itself for too long. 

“ _Your friends scared me a little bit_ ,” Stiles burst out a laugh. He could hear Derek. Not Derek’s voice out loud, but it was him. Stiles bit his bottom lip as something settled in his stomach. A layer of contentedness that didn’t cover up the loneliness of losing his family, but wrapped around it and cushioned against it’s sharp edges. Through Derek he could feel the Wills grazing the edges of his senses, still all around him.

“How far away does it work?” He asked

“We’re connected Stiles,”

“No but, like do I have to be in sight range, or hearing range? You senses or mine, or -,”

“I think it just works. Not across different planes though I guess,”

“Does it feel different to a werewolf?” Stiles asked as he looked up and managed to puch his elbow into Derek’s side as he moved.

“I don’t know what it feels like to a fae,” DErek said.

“Not sure I’m a fae any more,”

“Then what are you?”

“Something else,” Stiles said and shrugged.

“Smell like fae to me,”

“Smell? Werewolves and their…,” Stiles muttered as he rolled his eyes, “Wait, If I’m pack do I smell of pack. Like property of Hale stamped across my,-”

“Oh no. I don’t want to know,” Erica appeared at the door.

“You were supposed to be cleaning up,” Derek said as he turned to look over his shoudler towards her.

“What’re men for?” She shrugged. “There were five bowls and spoons to wash and put away, they can manage,” She said as she walked back across to them. When she got to the end of the sofa she stopped and looked down at them both.

“Why’s she looking at us like that?”Stiles asked, his voice a whisper and he leant in towards Derek.

“I think she wants something?” Derek whispered back conspiratorily. 

“Well fine, if you think you’ve got something better,” Erica said and crossed her arms. Derek reached a hand back and pulled her down into the gap between himself and the arm of the chair. She curled up beside Derek and rested her head on his collar bone. Derek ran his hand over the underside of her neck and Erica shut her eyes. 

Derek kept his eyes on Stiles who had leant back against the other arm of the sofa. He tucked his feet under Derek’s thigh and wiggled them. 

“We’re not so different are we?” Stiles said. Derek raised an eyebrow and Stiles heard the question on the edge of his mind, “Werewolves and fae. Touch and familiarity is important you know,” He thread his fingers together, “It gives you this better connection,”

“We know you had fae here Stiles,” Erica muttered.

“O-kay,”

“I talked it through with them. I hope you don’t mind,” Derek said

“What was the general reaction?” Stiles asked tentatively

“Out of sight, out of mind,” Derek shrugged. 

“You’re pack Stiles. Get used to it,” Boyd said. Stiles looked up to see both him and Isaac.. 

“You use that word to mean a lot of things y’know,” Stiles said and pointed a finger in Boyd’s direction.

“In this case it means we trust you,” Isaac said, 

“Implicitly,” Derek said.

“Thank you,” Stiles said with a nervous nod. He glanced around to each member of the pack. Boyd pulled Erica up enough to slide in behind her and pull her into his lap. Isaac sat on the floor between Derek and Stiles, his head tipped back against the seat. Derek dropped a hand to rest first on his shoulder and then he ran his fingers up over Isaac’s hair playfully. Isaac pulled away briefly but dropped his head back. 

“ _Are you okay Stiles_?”

“What?” Stiles said as he tore his gaze up to Derek, “Yeah, yeah i’m good,” The three betas looked up at him.

“You want to say something,” Derek prompted.

“If you know that why don’t you just listen in and answer it,”

“You two can hear each other now,” Isaac asked, “Like a proper bond?”

“We’re working on it,” Stiles said.

“ _Don’t change the subject_ ,” Derek muttered in his mind. Stiles scowled for a moment and then tried to find the right words.

“It’s just, if i’m pack, and we’re all being open about this. How do you feel about me doing magic around you?”

“No,” Boyd said immediately.

“No wolfsbane,” Erica said, her expression pinched. Stiles shifted his leg against Isaac and he glanced up.

“Thoughts?” He asked when Isaac caught his eye.

“It’s not all bad, right?” He asked

“None of it’s bad,” Stiles said and across the sofa Boyd scoffed, “It’s not. Fae aren’t like that,”

“So you say,” Boyd said.

“If we’re pack then you trust me,”

“I trust you to watch my back,” Boyd said, “and the back of everyone here to the best of your ability, I trust that you’re not going to be the one sticking a knife in us when we turn around,”

“Can I show you one trick?” Stiles asked, “My magic isn’t one hundred percent but if i practice a couple of times i think I could show you something you’d appreciate,”

“Explain it first,” Derek said, “Then let Boyd decided,”

“I can do a protection spell that makes it temporarily impossible to be stabbed or cut,” Stiles said, “I can’t do it on myself. Well I can but that’s trickier and I’m not sure I can use my magic like that at the moment.

“You’re not doing it on me,”

“Use me,” Isaac said. 

“Isaac no,”

“What’s the worst that could happen? One more cut?”

“Are you sure?” Stiles asked.

“Is Boyd?” Isaac asked and all eyes turned to Boyd, awaiting his approval.

“Once. One try. Don’t mess it up,” Boyd warned. 

“Got it,” Stiles said and pushed himself up from the corner to the seat and dropped to the floor beside Isaac. 

“Are you sure?” He asked again.

“You’ll feel like crap if you get this wrong,” Isaac warned him and smirked. 

“Thanks,” Stiles said and he cast a wary brief glance to Derek.

“So don’t get it wrong,” Derek said.

“That is remarkably bad advice,” Stiles said.

“Get on with it Stiles,” Erica said.

 

Stiles reached for Isaac’s hand and took a deep breath as he recalled the spell as exactly as he’d practiced in the past. He wasn’t working this spell around Isaac, he was doing it for Scott or Alicia or Teddy, when they went coral diving and would otherwise come up with cut fingers and palms. He traced the lines and muttered the incantation. A wave pulsed through him and Stiles directed it down towards Isaac’s. Beside them Derek gasped and Stiles felt a heavy hand land on his shoulder and grip him tightly. 

“Derek, you okay?” Stiles asked as the last of the wills flowed through him

“I could feel it, I could feel you changing him,” Derek said quietly.

“You changed me?” Isaac said, panic risen in his voice.

“Not you, the way things react to you, specifically the way things interact with your skin,” Stiles explained and Isaac eyed him warily, “It’s very specific, that spell took me years to master,” 

When Stiles looked up none of the betas looked convinced and Derek still looked unnerved by the way he had felt the spell. “Test it,” Stiles urged Isaac, “Apparently both Derek and I felt it work. You’re safe for about the next hour, probably,”

“How?” Isaac asked. His hand stayed in the place Stiles had held it whilst he conducted the spell as if he were afraid to move at all.

“Come here,” Erica leant down and her nails extended into claws. Before Isaac had time to escape she dug her nails hard into the skin of his forearm. 

“Ow crap!” She cried as she pulled back quickly, “Feels like stone,” She said. She turned in Boyd’s lap to look at him and he reached for her hand to rub small circled across. His eyes remained on Isaac who was now pinching his own skin with his claws.

“Well don’t look too impressed, he’s not indestructible,” Stiles said. 

“Boyd?” Derek asked.

“I still don’t want you _practicing_ near me,” Boyd said after a moment, “But _that_ might be useful,” He admitted.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone thinks I should include any more tags/warning don't hesitate to let me know, the same with spelling and grammar mistakes. I'm bound to have missed something.  
> Ill be updating this fic whenever I can. Encouragement may be necessary.


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